


Adagio

by shipstiel



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Classical Music, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Keith Plays the Piano, Lance is gay for classical music pass it on, M/M, Mentioned Shiro, Slow Burn, but it's not overwhelmingly classical don't worry, engineering student lance, everyone is a sci fi nerd, mentioned lotor - Freeform, seriously so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 19:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11766531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipstiel/pseuds/shipstiel
Summary: Lance is incredibly excited for his first apartment alone, until he realizes he's stuck with the literal neighbor from hell. He plays piano at all hours of the morning and he's absolutely rude.Except, when he gets to know him a little better he realizes maybe he's not all that bad. Maybe the music isn't either. Maybe he's sort of falling for him too.Interesting.





	Adagio

**Author's Note:**

> Right. So this fic was written for the 2017 Voltron General Bang. My partner was [lostkimin](http://lostkimin.tumblr.com/), who did all the wonderful art you'll see throughout the fic. 
> 
> The idea came out of my own love for the piano, which led to me totally reflecting it all on Keith. But don't worry, it's not too classical music heavily, it's just mentioned mostly. The fic itself is basically just pure fluff and entirely self indulgent. I created a [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLPK7CC0ND0z63GYI4pOZOxTuqn72EF7j3) with all the piano pieces that are played in the fic, as well as a few that didn't make it in, if you're interested. 
> 
> Enjoy! 

If it had been anyone but Hunk who had suggested they start moving Lance’s boxes at eight in the morning, Lance would have refused the idea immediately and been suspicious of them forever for the mere suggestion. If he was actually crazy enough to go _along_ with it because of someone else’s suggestion, Lance would be holding a hell of a grudge against them right now.

Except, it _was_ Hunk who suggest they move this early in the morning because he has a class at ten and Lance never really has been able to resist a friend as sweet as Hunk so he went along with it, like a fool.

And of course, because his friends are helping him move into his apartment for free thus helping Lance avoid the expensive movers fees that he _cannot_ afford, Lance felt guilty enough yesterday to offer to go buy the group Starbucks, his treat, before they started. Lance _really_ regrets that decision right now.

For some reason Starbucks is insanely busy for 7:45 on a Tuesday (Lance is perfectly aware that he’s probably going to be late at this rate but to be honest he can’t be bothered to care anymore), and he’s stuck waiting in a line for about a solid ten minutes before he even gets the chance to order. He’s gotta say that the bill total hurts his heart a little bit, but he knows that Pidge loves the weirdly strong coffee here so he just sucks it up as he hands over his card. (And sure, Lance’s frappucino can’t be helping the total much considering those things are expensive as hell, but he’s allowed to treat himself, right?)

He’s in a parking lot a few stores down from Starbucks, walking near the parked cars when it happens. Lance will admit that at least _some_ of the blame is his when he walks into the bike.

Wandering along peacefully, Lance is scrolling his instagram feed when suddenly he hears the sound of a motor starting and a bike pulls out of a parking spot in front of him, directly into his path.

Lance is honestly lucky that the bike wasn’t moving any quicker than it was at the time of impact, because all that ends up happening is the rider stopping the motorcycle quickly, with Lance smacking his arm into the back of the seat.

And coffee goes. Everywhere.

Lance escapes the fire but the bike, unfortunately, does not. The rider’s red leather jacket is totally soaked with coffee and Lance can see the person jump in shock.

Lance is feeling incredibly guilty at this point because he’s just spilled coffee all over some complete stranger, although at least it was only one of the drinks and not all three of them, and he’s about to apologize when the stranger pulls off their helmet.

And okay so, _holy shit_ . If Lance hadn’t had his gay, well, _bi_ awakening when he was fourteen, then he definitely would be having one right now.

Whatever Lance was about to say dies on his lips because it’s like something out of a stupid action movie, with this guy taking off the helmet and shaking out his hair.

He glares at Lance with what, are those _purple_ eyes? He looks down at his jacket and at Lance, like Lance is a complete idiot.

“What the hell? Why don’t you watch where you’re going, you got coffee all over me and my bike!”

And alright, so Lance may be completely gay for this guy but that doesn’t mean that he’s gonna become a pushover or something, and he immediately snaps out of his trance, becoming just as hostile.

“What do mean what was _I_ doing? You’re the one who parked out of a parking space without looking and hit a pedestrian!”

“Oh _please,_ you tripped over my bike because you obviously weren’t watching where you were going!”

“You know, I was gonna help you clean off that jacket of yours but now I don’t want to!” And that guy really _does_ need to clean his jacket or it’s gonna stain. The thought of it alone is enough to make Lance cringe.

“Why would I want your help! You’d probably just spill more coffee on me!” The guy finally gets off his bike, looking in disgust at the coffee that’s dripping off of him now. He should just count himself lucky that the leather kept him from getting burnt.

Lance rolls his eyes. “Whatever dude. If you wanna be a dick about everything then I’m not gonna apologize.”

“What, like you expect _me_ to?”

Lance feels his phone buzz and realizes that that’s probably his friends asking him where the hell he is, and he still needs to go back to Starbucks and get another coffee. _Shit._ He is gonna be in so much trouble.

“Listen, I don’t have time for this shit. Have fun with that situation.” It kills Lance not to apologize because that’s just against everything his mother ever taught him but his pride would be way too damaged to do it now, so he resists.

Lance hears bike guy mutter some choice insults as Lance walks away and Lance just flips him off over his shoulder, making his way back to Starbucks. As if his morning wasn’t bad enough already. He hopes he doesn’t encounter any more assholes like _that_ today.

 

\--

 

“You should lift more from the knees, you’re gonna mess up your back like that.”

Lance deposits the boxes he was carrying on the ground with a relieved sigh and drops down to sit on the ground and rest for a moment. He looks over at Pidge, who is balanced sitting cross legged on a stack of boxes, looking down at him.

“Where the hell have you been? We were totally struggling down there and you’re sitting here drinking _my frappucino_.” He lunges forward to try and grab it but Pidge pulls back quick enough so that he misses.

Pidge stirs the drink a little bit with the straw. “You know, this is ridiculously sweet.”  
“Yeah, you know I add syrups, that’s why it’s good. Why don’t you drink your coffee?”  
“I finished it and I figured I needed some time to rest, some nutrients before I continued to move all those boxes.” Pidge stretches like she's been running a marathon all morning and needs a cool down.

“You moved two boxes of _clothes_ , then we never saw you again.”

“Why’re you complaining, I thought you would like an opportunity to show off those so called _guns_ of yours.” Pidge raises an eyebrow, the edges of her mouth curling up in a sly grin.

“Yeah, well there’s no one cute in the area right now. I swear, if there isn’t anyone attractive in this building I’m moving.”

Pidge looks down at him over the rim of her glasses. “You know, maybe I should have let you drink the frappuccino because you sure are thirsty.” She snorts at her own joke and Lance sticks out his tongue.

Lance notices the empty cup in Pidge’s hands. “You drank _all_ of it?”  
“We _both_ know I have no self control” Pidge deadpans.

Lance points a finger at her. “You owe me a Starbucks.”

“Ugh, _fine_ .” Pidge rolls her eyes, and takes one last slurp to try to clear out the remaining bits of drink. “Why’re you so desperate for hot people here anyways, aren’t you with Nyma?”  
Lance sighs. “We’re off again.” Him and Nyma are basically the _definition_ of an on and off relationship. “We got into a fight because she kept talking with her ex, and I am just _so_ happy I didn’t ask her to move in.”  
Pidge nods understandingly. “Bitches, man.”

“Guys? Some help here?”

Lance’s eyes widen as he recognizes Hunk’s voice from outside the apartment and turns to swing the door open quickly, stepping out into the hallway.

Hunk is there, struggling to keep a couch from sliding back down the stairs where he’s apparently pushed it up by himself.

Lance rushes over to assist, taking the other end and helping him lift it up the last couple of stairs to flat ground on the landing.

The both of them together barely manage to get the couch into the apartment without dropping it, and Lance wonders how the hell Hunk got it so far on his own.

Hunk practically collapses onto the couch after they put it down.

Lance sits down on the floor across from him and pats his shoulder sympathetically. “Why don’t you take a break now, Hunk? You’ve been awesome.”  
Hunk nods and moves so that he’s sitting in a more comfortable position, still breathing heavier than usual. “I guess we could start unpacking some of the boxes, it’ll be less effort.”  
Lance winces. “ _Oor,_ I could tell you about the asshole that I met at Starbucks tomorrow. I know you guys love hearing about my struggles.”

“That’s because you have so many. And they’re all funny.”

“Thanks Pidge.” Lance isn’t sure if she meant they’re funny in the sense that Lance’s life is just a long series of fails, or because she genuinely finds them amusing. At this point he knows not to ask.

“So, I’m innocently walking out of the parking lot at Starbucks with the coffees that I stood in line for like, forever to get, and I hear this motor start up. Half a second later, this _motorcycle_ comes backing out of its parking spot super quick and the guy slows down when he sees me but it’s already too late because I kind of bump into him, nothing too violent or anything. But the problem is, one of the coffees I’m holding just spills _all_ over him.” Lance shifts so that he’s cross legged, his favorite position to tell stories in because he can lean forward dramatically and look around at his friends. Really enhances the effect.

“Anyways, so I’m about to be all apologetic and shit, but then he takes his motorcycle helmet off and I’m kind of just caught there for a second staring at him because he is _so_ hot, but then he starts ranting about how dumb I am for spilling his coffee on him and I am _done_. Basically, he was a total asshole about it and I sort of picked a fight back at him because something about that guy really pisses me off. The moral of the story is, people like that shouldn’t be gifted with being hot. Because that shit is unfair.”

Pidge grins. “Someone sounds jealous.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “I’m not jealous. I just hope I never see _that_ guy again.”

Hunk gives him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you won’t. I mean, what’re the odds, right?”

 

\--

 

Lance’s friends come over again after their classes to help move the last couple of boxes and only leave around midnight. Although he was planning on going to bed a lot earlier he supposes he’s pretty much always tired anyways so it’s probably alright.

If he drifts to sleep within the next fifteen minutes then he should get about six hours of sleep, especially if he cuts his morning routine down a little and wakes up later than usual. He thinks he hears the nextdoor neighbor that he’s been wondering about the entire day come home, but it’s a bit late for introductions now. Lance will just have to do it tomorrow.

He’s just settled into bed and closed his eyes when he hears it.

It starts soft, just a few quiet sounds somewhere in the distance and Lance ignores them. He fully expects it to just go away and for there to be silence, since he _did_ pick this spot as being the one with the least street noise for his budget.

There’s silence and then a loud sound, and this time Lance can totally tell that it’s some sort of an instrument because there’s a definite melody. _What asshole is playing piano at this time of night_?

Lance opens his eyes and glares at the ceiling, imagining it’s whoever is making that noise. His headphones that he uses to listen to music while falling asleep with are still packed in some box. Lance is really starting to regret not organizing his boxes a little better while packing.

Okay, so maybe the piano music is just part of some movie or something. Lance shouldn’t overreact, he should give this person a chance to realize that they’re way too loud and quiet it down before going and totally pissing off his new neighbor.

He gives his neighbor five minutes. Five minutes of some loud classical music where Lance starts to think more and more that this is not a movie and he’s moved into a place where he’s gonna have to live with loud piano music all the time. Lance starts to hate the person who’s wrecking his triumphant first day of living on his own.

After five minutes, when the previous song ends and a new one begins thirty seconds later, Lance has had enough, and he gets up to go settle this.

He doesn’t really care that he’s in his pyjamas and all. The one thing that he could be bothered to shove on his feet is a pair of slippers. He is way too annoyed and desperate for some sleep for any amount of pride.

He storms out of his apartment, just barely remembering to grab a key on the way out so that he doesn’t lock himself out (he’s done that in Hunk’s apartment before, and it’s _awful_ . Lance having to go get his building manager at twelve thirty to get him into his apartment on the first night would just be even worse a blow to his pride). He stops in front of the culprit neighbor’s apartment and knocks. When the piano _still_ doesn’t stop after a moment, he knocks even louder. They probably didn’t even hear him over their own noise.

Lance keeps on knocking, even after the piano’s already stopped, and he can hear the sound of footsteps coming towards the door.

He only stops knocking when the door swings inward suddenly, and Lance pauses, fist mid air ready for another knock.

His hand drops along with his jaw when he sees who’s on the other side of said door.

“It’s you. The asshole with the motorcycle.”

Motorcycle guy narrows his eyes. “It’s you. The one who can’t cross the street properly on his own.” He looks down at Lance’s Transformers pyjamas in what looks like _disapproval_ , which annoys Lance even more.  
Lance crosses his arms. “Of course I would get you as a neighbor, because apparently I can’t have anything nice in my life. It’s almost one in the morning, why the _hell_ are you playing piano.”

“I was out all day and I wanted to get some practice done.”

“You’re an edgy _biker_ , was one thing not enough for you? What, you want people to see your _sensitive_ side too?” Lance is honestly way too annoyed right now for logic reasoning.

His neighbor sighs. “So you came here just to insult me?”  
“No, I came here to tell you to _stop playing the piano at twelve thirty in the morning_ . Some of us here are trying to get some sleep, not sit like some _creep_ , or the Phantom of the Opera or something!” Lance throws his hands up, leaning forward as he rants.

The guy gives him this look like Lance is an idiot and he’s been personally attacked. “The _Phantom of the Opera_ ? That’s the best that you could come up with?”

“Oh, I’m _sorry_ I couldn’t come up with a better insult to suit your needs, maybe if you let me get some actual _sleep_ I can come up with some better ones for you later.”

“The last tenant never complained about any noise, and I practiced at this hour then. Maybe you’re just sensitive?”

“Maybe they were just _deaf_?”

Lance’s neighbor rolls his eyes. “It’s classical music, shouldn’t it help you sleep?”

Lance sighs. “How long are you still planning on practicing?”

“I don’t know, I usually practice at least an hour. Maybe two”

“ _An hour??_ There is no way I am staying up from that shit for another two hours! _Just stop fucking playing the piano_!” Lance’s voice rises as his annoyance with this idiot gets worse.

Neighbor from hell stares at him for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Fine, sure. I’ll grant that it might be a _little_ late, but not worth freaking out over like this. I need to be up early in the morning anyways.”

Lance ignores the jab at him apparently being a whiner and allows the corner of his mouth to twitch up in victory as he nods. “Good.”

He turns and walks off, ready to get some _fucking_ sleep.

He’s pretty sure his neighbor glares at him the entire way back.

This was going to be a hellish experience living here, but he’s certain he’s got it under control now.

 

—

 

Lance wakes up at seven in the morning to the sound of music being played next door.

So maybe he _hasn’t_ got this all under control.

He’d go pick another fight but he’s already running late for his day and he’s not going to let that asshole make it worse for him.

All he can hope is that he won’t have to deal with it when he gets home.

 

\--

 

Lance gets home at nine that night, and he gets about twenty minutes of peace before it starts again. And he is _done_ . He’s had a long ass day with work and classes and he’s not in the mood for this right now. Of course with his luck the guy would start playing right when he comes back. He’s had the entire _day_.

Instead of going over and talking to the asshole _again_ , he just bangs on the shared wall between them with an open hand, a few times. The playing stops, and Lance is sure that he understood the message Lance was sending.

Except, the piano starts up again less than ten seconds later. Lance storms over to the door, throwing it open to go out into the hallway and knock for his neighbor again.

When the door opens a few moments later Lance spits out a harsh “fuck off the piano for five minutes, would you?” before he goes back to his apartment and slams the door shut behind him.

 

\--

 

Lance gets a brilliant idea somewhere between the third and the fourth song (although in all honesty, he can’t tell the difference between songs very well so for all he knows it could be a different number) that his neighbor plays after Lance leaves from his (albeit rude) quick visit.

Sure, Neighbor-From-Hell may refuse to stop playing, but that doesn't mean that Lance can’t play some music of his own. He's in the kitchen, working on making himself some dinner when the thought comes to him and he breaks into a wide grin. He still hasn’t gotten around to unpacking it yet because he’s so lazy, but he has a set of albeit shitty quality speakers sitting around in some box somewhere, and there is no reason why he can’t be making use of them.

Sure, the sound quality from them is awful which is why Lance has left them in said box for so long, but he knows that they’ll be able to play loud enough to cover up the sound of the piano.

He immediately puts down the ingredients for the food he’s been preparing and goes over to where the majority of the boxes are, ready to do some digging. His eating schedule is already fucked up as it is anyways, it can wait a little bit longer.

 

\--

 

Lance finally manages to find his speakers after about twenty minutes of searching through boxes. If it hadn’t been a mess in his apartment before this, now it _really_ is. It’s worth it though, when he puts them on the bookshelf, optimal location for broadcasting all the noise towards Neighbor’s apartment, and hooks them up.

He plugs his phone into them, still cursing the fact that he hadn’t been able to afford bluetooth ones, and scrolls through his music library. He needs something that’s going to be loud, but that’s also going to be something that he’ll want to listen to.

He knows he’s struck gold when he finds the shitty pop music playlist that he made a couple of weeks ago to annoy Pidge. Something tells him that his uptight neighbor is going to feel the same way.

Lance would be lying if he said that the loud sound of Shakira blasting through his speakers wasn’t satisfying.

He grins, making his way back to the kitchen, picking up his knife again to start chopping some more vegetables. He loves this playlist, it’s got a lot more cringey shit than Shakira and he’s a fan of all of it.

It only takes halfway through Hips Don’t Lie for the knock to come on Lance’s door.

Lance lets him wait a few moments, making sure to carefully dry his hands and slowly walk over to the door. Another impatient knock comes and Lance grins in satisfaction, opening the door languidly.

On the other side is Lance’s neighbor, and although he is _clearly_ pissed off, Lance is still hit by how gorgeous this guy is.

 _Unfair._  

Lance gives him a false pleasant smile. “Is something wrong?”

Neighbor guy is clearly trying not to let his annoyance show _too_ much but Lance can see right through him. He gives Lance a pained smile, motioning towards the inside of the apartment where Lance’s Shakira is still playing at full blast.

“Do you think that you could turn that down a little bit?”

He has to speak up a bit because of the volume of the music and Lance gives him a confused look, even though he heard him full well the first time. “Sorry?”

Lance can see a muscle jump in the other man’s jaw as he clenches it, speaking louder again after a moment. “Do you think you could turn the music down a little bit?”

Lance widens his eyes like this is surprising news to him. “Sorry, is it bothering you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that sucks that it’s in _my_ apartment then and not yours, right? I mean, I have the right to my _own_ music.”

Lance can tell by the way that Neighbor’s eyes narrow in a sort of furious way that he understands exactly what Lance means by that statement.

“Are you seriously that childish? Is this some sort of petty revenge plot?”

Lance gasps like some southern belle. “Why, never.”

Mullet Boy pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes like he’s asking the lord to grant him some patience right now, and that’s always the mark of one of Lance’s successful revenge plots.

He looks up. “Can’t you listen with headphones or something? Then you can listen to it loudly and I can actually _hear_ my pianissimo parts.”

“Oh, sorry to disturb your _pianissimo_ parts,” (Lance pronounces it strangely on purpose. It’s Italian, and Lance knows how to pronounce it in theory, but there’s no way he’s giving that guy the satisfaction), “but I enjoy moving around freely when I listen to music and it’s difficult to do that when headphone wires keep getting in the way.”

They’ve been talking so long that the song switches to fucking _Peacock_ by Katy Perry and Lance can tell that he’s _really_ pissing this guy off now.

“Bluetooth headphones?”

Lance throws his hands up. “Do you think I’m _made_ of money?”

“What if I got you some?”

Lance actually considers the offer for a moment, because that would be a pretty sweet trade for his silence on this all, but then he hurriedly puts the idea out of mind. There’s _no_ way he’s going to let his neighbor win that easily.

“I’d feel too guilty to accept a gift like that. Why don’t you use headphones when you practice?”

“Because it’s a fucking accoustic piano and you can’t just _plug_ in--“ Neighbor is ranting like Lance has just said the most idiotic thing he’s ever heard and he can’t even believe that it’s a real statement when he pauses, his mouth open.

He slams it shut a moment later and glares at Lance. “You’re fucking with me.”

Lance grins. “Now that this all is resolved, I’d better get back to cooking. I’ve got a busy night ahead of me, I’m probably gonna need the music to keep me going motivationally wise, y’know?”

Lance gives his neighbor who seems like he’s completely speechless one last sweet smile before shutting the door in his face.

He does a little victory dance on the way back to the kitchen.

 

\--

 

The next time that Lance hears the familiar sound of piano keys startup next door he knows immediately what to do. Sure, he’s not been having to suffer with this for very long, but what’s the phrase?

_Affirmative action._

 

\--

 

“Why do you have those speakers set up again? I thought the sound was awful in them.” Pidge gestures over vaguely to where the speakers are still set up on Lance’s bookshelf. “I mean, why did you even pack them. Those should have been in the trash a long time ago.”

Lance grins and sits up in where he’s been lounging back on the couch. He pulls his legs off of Hunk’s lap so that he can pull them into himself. “So, I had the most brilliant idea last night. That douchebag next door was playing piano again really loud and then I had a _revelation_ . If _he’s_ allowed to play music annoyingly then so can I!”

Pidge bursts out laughing. “You _would_.”

Hunk sighs. “I’m not even surprised. Why are you fighting this so hard? A lot of people might like some soft piano music in the background. Is he good?”

Lance furrows his eyebrows at the question and pouts. “Yeah, he is. Like, really good.” It kills him to admit it.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem, Hunk, is that it’s _annoying_!“

Pidge rolls her eyes. “You know, I always see you complaining about this but I have never once heard him play, and we’re here a lot.”

“See! That just proves he’s out to ruin _my_ life and no one else’s! I’m being targeted! He only plays when he knows he can target me.”

Hunk grins. “You’re so paranoid.”

Lance sighs. “No one understands me.”

“Alright.” Hunk sits up more as well and looks at Pidge, then back at Lance. “Why don’t Pidge and I go talk to him and introduce ourselves. That way we can scope out for ourselves if it’s really just you he’s out to get.”

Lance somehow feels like this isn’t the best idea but he has to admit that he’s curious. Besides, his friends will question him if he says no, so he basically has no choice but to agree.

It’s not like they seem to care about his opinion much anyways, because they’re already up and halfway out his door by the time Lance opens his mouth to respond.

He just sighs and lays back in the couch. “You guys are gonna see just how awful he really is!”

Pidge rolls her eyes. “As supposedly thin these walls are, you seem to yell pretty loudly.”

“Maybe I _want_ him to hear.”

Lance lounges casually on the couch until they leave, like he doesn’t care about the situation because he’s just _that_ chill. The second that they’re out the door and out of sight he gets up and makes his way to the door as quietly as he can because although the walls aren’t _that_ thin, he still doesn’t want them to find him creeping.

He hangs by the door, but they closed the door to his apartment on the way out and he can’t exactly open it without them being able to notice down the hall. He is able to hear them knock and the other door open, but he can’t hear a single word of what they’re saying, even when he presses his ear against the door. It’s all just mumbling and gibberish. The only thing that he can tell is that they definitely aren’t yelling at each other and they don’t sound hostile at all. If anything, it sounds downright friendly.

Lance hears them chatting so long he’s afraid that that neighbor of his would have somehow stolen his friends or something. He starts imagining how he’s gonna hear them all in the neighbouring apartment, having some sort of piano party or something which Lance realizes doesn’t make much sense, but he’s still gonna have to go in for a rescue mission if it happens, ridiculous or not.

Lance doesn’t get far in his thoughts when he suddenly hears the sound of his friends’ footsteps coming down the hall back towards his place and he turns from the door, dashing to the couch quickly to resume his casual position from earlier.

He just barely makes it to sit down before his front door is opening and Pidge and Hunk come back in.

Lance looks up from his phone which wasn’t actually on, but he thought that it would be a nice touch. “How’d it go?”

Pidge rolls her eyes, probably noticing how Lance is the slightest bit breathless right now from that short sprint and sits back down on the couch across from Lance. She looks over at Hunk, who sits down as well.

“You wanna go first?”

Hunk breaks into an almost dreamy smile. “He’s _great_.”

Lance feels his mouth physically drop open in shock. He looks to Pidge for an explanation, hoping for a _hah, sike_ and a bitch session about how awful his neighbor. Instead, Pidge just gives him an all too serious nod.

“Like seriously. He’s really cool. I don’t know what your problem with him is.”

Lance throws up his hands. “What the hell’s so good about him?”

Hunk holds up fingers as he counts off explanations. “He’s actually really friendly, he apologized for bothering us, and he is _totally_ your type, looks wise at least.”

Lance narrows his eyes. “You guys talked to him for like, five minutes. How can you be so sure of all of this?”

Pidge rolls her eyes. “We know more about him than you do.”

“Oh really now?”

She nods.

“Like _what_.”

Pidge grins. “Well for starters, we actually know his name, unlike you.”

Lance is so annoyed that she’s got him stumped on the first point. This is the _worst_ way to lose, especially to Pidge. And he’s way too proud to admit that he desperately wants to know the information that Pidge has.

Pidge of course, knows Lance all too well from the many years that they have suffered in the company of each other’s friendship, and leans forward. “I could always tell you that you know, if you wanted.”

Lance just arches an eyebrow in a way that he hopes is obvious enough for Pidge to take it, but still subtle enough that he retains some of his dignity.

Pidge takes his offering and grins. “It’s Keith.”

_Keith._

Lance thinks over the name for a few seconds. He isn’t sure how he feels about it. At least it’s better than calling him _Neighbor_ all the time, right?

Hunk sighs. “Can we have him over for dinner some time? Maybe like a couple thing, once I have a girlfriend and you have Keith.”

Lance shakes his head. “No Hunk, we are not having _couple_ dates because I’m not a couple with Keith and we hate each other, despite what you two say!”

“Alright Lance, sure.”

“Besides, there’s no way Keith and I would be a couple even if I _didn’t_ hate his guts because one of these days Nyma is going to come back and apologize and I won’t have time for all these sideshows.” Lance is aware how pathetic he sounds, but he’s inherently a hopeful guy.

Lance eventually just rolls his eyes at their expressions. “You wanna play some Mario Kart?”

“You’re just hoping that our usual screaming will bother Keith.”

Lance grins. “You know me so well.”

(They end up playing anyways).

 

\--

 

Lance is watching tv by himself a few days later when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He doesn’t even bother to pause the show to check it, it’s a repeat of Storage Wars that he’s seen before anyways.

He’s pretty much just expecting it to be Pidge sending him some weird meme, or Hunk striking up a conversation, so it’s a far more pleasant surprise when he realizes that it’s Nyma texting him.

He’s of course suspicious when he sees that the message is from her. There’s a strong possibility it’s going to be one of her signature long paragraphs of what Lance has done wrong this time, saying that she’s finally going to be _open to apologies_.

Instead, it’s the exact opposite.

 

(7:14) Look, so maybe I was wrong. I’ll stop talking to him

 

Lance is torn between absolute delight at winning this round, and dread of their upcoming reunion. Sure, he has the option _not_ to get back together with her, but Lance knows that he’s not strong enought to take that one.

Nyma fucks him around a lot for sure, but he’s not sure if he knows anything else.

 

\--

 

Nyma and Lance have one of Nyma’s signature meaningful conversations a couple of days later and Lance forgets all about his concerns for the relationship. His mood improves, a lot and he realizes how much he missed her. This great mood doesn’t make him forget about Keith though. He’s just as annoying as ever.

Lance ends up expanding his collection of shitty music just to bother him. He creates a special playlist on spotify for it. And sure, he wonders once or twice if he’s maybe going too far with it but then he remembers that he doesn't really care and that Keith is just as unreasonable as he is.

Lance is trying to study for an upcoming exam and the piano starts up and Lance knows that people listen to classical music to study sometimes but when Lance studies he needs to do it in _absolute_ silence. Otherwise he can’t focus on any of it.

So of course, when this happens he can’t just crank up the music like he has been the last couple of days. That’ll just make things worse. But he can’t continue on with the quiet sounds in the background either, they’re driving him _insane._

He gives up after five minutes of trying to tolerate it and goes nextdoor. He’s just going to have to try and reach a compromise with Keith. Needless to say, he’s not hopeful.

Keith takes longer and longer to respond to the door every time that Lance comes to complain. Yet, he still comes.  
Keith only opens the door a slit and looks at Lance through the crack. “What?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “You know what.”

Keith moves to close the door and Lance sighs. He should be less aggressive, at least at the start. He knows enough about Keith at this point that starting out argumentative will only make things spiral out of control. (Lance still can’t help but fall for it sometimes though. It’s too easy to be angry).

Lance tries his best to make a more pleasant facial expression and pushes the door open gently before letting go. “Do you think that you could maybe leave the practicing until tomorrow? I have an exam and I’ll be out pretty much all of the afternoon so there’ll be plenty of time then.”

Keith looks suspicious at the way Lance is acting and shakes his head after a moment. “Sorry. I’m out tomorrow with a gig. I need to practice for it tonight.”

Lance’s lips tighten but he still tries not to let his anger show. “Come on man, please? You’ve had all day, why do you always practice at night? It’s really hard for me to focus when there’s distraction in the background.”

Keith gives him a blank look. “Why didn’t you study earlier in the day? Studying this late isn’t a good idea when your exam is tomorrow.”

Keith’s high and mighty attitude is starting to break through Lance’s composure, and he gives up on trying not to show his irritation. “I was at work all day. And I had other classes, I’m not just in the one.”

Keith crosses his arms. “It’s not just you with important things going on. I know how college is, I did it too, you’ve gotta learn to manage time.”

Lance glares. “Fuck you man, you look like you’re my age, don’t pull that attitude on me. You think all these complex physics exams are easy?”

Keith’s glaring now too. “These performances are my _job_. They’re my career, and if I don’t rehearse for them I won’t have one. It’s as simple as that.”

Lance can see that this is going nowhere. As it always does. He turns to leave with a simple “fuck off,” and returns to his apartment.

If he can’t study here, it’s just going to have to be somewhere else. Pidge’s place is quiet because she normally just sits comatose in front of the computer with her headphones anyways, so Lance is just gonna have to go there for the night. Just because he’s gone though doesn’t mean that the speakers can’t be running.

He leaves his apartment to the sound of music blaring, and a faint grin of satisfaction on his lips.

 

\--

 

And sure, Lance is exhausted the next day from finally passing out on Hunk’s couch after studying all night, but at least Hunk gave him a pillow and a blanket to keep him from being _too_ uncomfortable. Despite being tired Lance still feels really well about the exam. No thanks to _Keith_.

It’s Nyma inviting him out that makes him feel better. They’re in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, and Lance is feeling hopeful about it this time, he really is. When he meets her and sees the dress she’s wearing his mood improves even _more_.

 

\--

 

It’s only a couple of days after the whole studying incident when there’s another confrontation. This time Lance is less desperate because he’s not got anything pressing he’s supposed to be working on, and Lance grins, cranking the knob to turn the speakers _way_ up when suddenly there’s a loud, awful screeching noise and he slaps his hands over his ears to try and protect them but the sound ends only a couple of seconds after it begins. And then the speakers are quiet.

Lance cautiously removes his palms from his ears and reaches for the speakers, but no matter how he fidgets with them there’s still no sound.

Of fucking _course_ . On the one hand, Lance isn’t really surprised. It’s a miracle these speakers worked as long as they did considering the sum total of five dollars that he spent on them at a garage sale. On the other hand this _sucks_.

Lance groans and pulls the power cable from the speakers just in case they decide to let out another hellish noise. He’s just gonna have to come up with something else instead.

 

\--

 

Lance is idly browsing the web one day, humming some tune under his breath, when he finds himself googling _what’s that pretty piano song called_ before he can stop himself.

What the _fuck_.

Lance needs to come up with something, _stat_.

 

\--

 

Lance is at another garage sale about a week later when he makes an amazing discovery and he lets out a massive grin. This is _so_ going to be worth the fifteen dollars they’ve got charged.

 

\--

 

Keith stops in front of the propped up open door and holds his hands up, looking at Lance like he’s an absolute lunatic. “What the _fuck_ ?”  
Lance grins, completing one last snare solo before twirling the drumsticks in his hand with a flourish. He makes a slight bow. “Did you enjoy the performance?”

Keith narrows his eyes like he still can’t believe this is happening. “Why are you sitting with your front door open, playing on some shitty children’s drumset?”

Lance touches his drums defensively. “Don’t insult her like this.”

Keith kind of just stares at Lance for a few moments, taking in a few breaths like he’s trying to keep his cool. “Why? Why do you have a child’s drumset and why can’t you close your apartment door?”

Okay, so Lance admits that this is one of the more dramatic things he’s done in a while but when he saw that drumset he couldn’t resist. And then when he brought it back to his apartment and thought about where to put it for the best impact, he also couldn’t resist the idea of being able to look Keith in the eyes when he came to complain about the playing.

Lance gives Keith a mock earnest expression. “I wanted to learn an instrument. Is there something wrong with that?”

Keith closes his eyes for a moment and leans his head forward on the doorframe like he’s asking someone for patience. Then he opens his eyes to look at Lance, still not moving his head from its position.

“That drumset is way too small for you. And you play it so loudly.”  
“I wanna be in a heavy metal band so I gotta learn how to play loudly. Otherwise no one’s gonna be able to hear me over the guitarist and the guy shrieking.” Lance holds his hand up, tucking in his middle and ring fingers. “Rock and roll, man.”

Keith sighs and Lance is pretty sure he hears him murmur a low “fuck my life,” before he turns and goes back to his apartment.

_Success._

 

\--

 

Okay, so maybe Lance only took up drumming to annoy Keith but he’s starting to get really into it. He’s totally got good rhythm from being able to dance and hitting things repeatedly with a stick is a satisfying way to use that skill. Lance starts to look up tutorial videos and works on learning different rhythms.

He’s about thirty minutes into repeating the same complex rhythm over and over when his apartment door bursts open all of a sudden (Lance should really learn to lock that) and an angry Keith storms in.

Lance doesn’t get much warning but he still manages to half jump half tip off his little stool and land ass first on the floor. He’s scrambling away from Keith who’s nearly upon him when he panics and uses the only weapon at his disposal, his drumstick, and throws it at the side of Keith’s head.

Keith stops, glaring at him, reaching up to hold the part of the head where Lance threw the stick. “What the _hell_ ?”

“This is a home invasion! This is what CSI is for,” Lance shrieks at Keith, his terror turning into laughter that he struggles to control. The laughter gets worse when he sees what Keith’s wearing. “What the fuck are you _wearing_ ?”

Keith looks down at his shirt then his eyes widen like he didn’t realize he was wearing it this whole time and covers it up by folding his arms over his chest.

“It’s just a normal shirt.”

Lance shakes his head, gasping. “You-- it’s a fucking Powerpuff Girls shirt. Where did you even _get_ that?”

Keith’s face is burning red at this point and he’s obviously in defensive mode now. “My friend got it for me as a gag gift a few years ago and it’s laundry day and I didn’t have anything else to wear and _that’s not the point stop playing that same drum beat_.”

Lance shakes his head, still laughing so hard that he almost stabs himself in the stomach with the remaining drumstick.

Keith is clearly still embarrassed and uncrosses his arms, reaching out one of his hands towards Lance. “Give me the drumstick and I’ll be out of your hair.”  
Lance sobers up, clutching the drumstick to his chest. “No, I’m not just gonna _give_ it to you.”

Keith motions towards the other one still on the floor from where it deflected off of his head. “You _threw_ that one at me!”

“I was fearing for my _life_.”

“I’ve tried being nice and letting you learn your instrument but you play so needlessly loudly it’s obviously just to bother me so _give me the drumstick_!” Keith leans over and Lance can anticipate what’s gonna happen next based off of the look in his eye.

Lance scoots backwards quickly as Keith lunges for the drumstick, and then there’s a whole lot of screaming mainly on Lance’s part, and wrestling, and that’s when they hear it.

Someone else in the apartment clears their throat and Lance is left wondering who the _fuck_ else broke in, and him and Keith stop wrestling long enough to look back and see their building supervisor standing and watching them with a horrified expression.

Well this is definitely not going to be easy to explain.

 

\--

 

So as it turns out, Lance is a _way_ better negotiator than Keith is, because when their building manager finally gets angry at them for all of the constant loud noises from the past two weeks, Lance is the one who lessens the amount of trouble they’re in. If it had been up to Keith, they could’ve gotten themselves kicked out of their apartments and the manager _likes_ Keith.

In the end all they have to do is to promise to stop making so much noise and waking everyone up in the middle of the night with three A.M. drums against piano battles. (Lance is proud to say that the drums win, every time).

Lance catches Keith afterwards, when they’ve left the manager’s office. Keith’s calmed down a lot since their scuffle, but he’s still wearing that ridiculous Powerpuff Girls shirt that the manager had totally noticed too, and Lance is finding it hard to take him seriously in it.

“So we need to stop with all this fighting if we’re gonna avoid getting kicked out of our apartments. I’m totally open to suggestions.”

“You can do what you want, I’m not the one who the neighbors can hear through three floors.” Sure, Keith doesn’t look pissed anymore but now he’s just a dismissive asshole.

Lance rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude.” He walks off before Keith can respond.

 

\--

 

It’s around eleven when Lance hears the sound of footsteps outside his door which seem to walk up then linger for a couple of seconds before a piece of paper appears pushed through the slat on the bottom of the door, then the footsteps leave again.

Lance walks over to investigate and picks up the paper to read in some pretty _shitty_ handwriting the following:

 

_So yes, it’s partly my fault you play the drums so loud anyways. So here’s the deal, I stop practicing at nine thirty P.M. and you toss the drums. We have a deal?_

 

Lance grins when he reads the note. It’s a good sign Keith is approaching him with this. He goes to the kitchen to grab a pen and scribble out his own response.

 

_Practice no later than 7 and no earlier than 10 and I’ll give up my aspiring drum career_

 

Lance goes down the hall to push the note under Keith’s door then walks back to his own apartment before Keith has the chance to open the door on him or something.

The response comes a couple of minutes later in the same way as before.

 

_No later than eight. No earlier than nine thirty and that’s as far as I’m willing to go._

 

Lance grins victoriously.

 

_Deal._

 

\--

 

Things have been surprisingly peaceful since Lance and Keith made their agreement. There haven’t been any more drum incidents since Lance retired the set to the corner, although he’d outright refused to get rid of them. Lance still doesn’t wanna get rid of the hope of using them again at some point. (Even though Nyma gives him _quite_ a questioning look when she sees the set).

Keith and Lance settle into a sort of rhythm. Keith practices up until the last possible minute each day, but he never once goes over and Lance doesn’t have to worry about bringing his girlfriend over to a classic neighbor versus neighbor argument.

Lance starts to believe that maybe things are going to be alright. At least for the time being, everything seems settled.

 

\--

 

Lance curses the day that Nyma decides she wants to watch a movie in the middle of the day. Because, of course, it’s prime Keith practicing hours and the piano keeps going the most quiet scenes of the film. And loud scales do _not_ go well in a meaningful scene with a love confession.

Nyma shoots him several looks throughout the movie when the music from nextdoor gets too loud and Lance tries to ignore the way that she’s _totally_ glaring at him. He knows that she expects him to do something about it, but he’s _so_ not in the mood to poke _that_ bear right now.

Finally it gets to the point where Nyma has had enough. She pulls out the remote and pauses the film, and turns to Lance completely this time, no side eye.

She raises an eyebrow. “Well?”  
Lance feigns innocence. “Well what?”

She is _not_ impressed with that response. “Well are you going to _do_ something about it?”

“About what?” Lance is _so_ going to be dead over this.

“The piano your neighbor keeps playing, that you seem all too happy to _ignore._ It’s ruining the film!”

“What piano?” It’s a last ditch attempt and Lance says it in a weak voice, hoping that maybe it will come across as a funny joke, and it will be mildly charming to her.

It is not.

She shoots him a disgusted look then gets up, taking his arm off her shoulder as she does so. “Fine. If you’re not going to do something about it I will.”

Lance’s stomach drops. “What?”

She crosses her arms. “I’m gonna go talk to whoever is making that racket and tell them to stop.”

“Nyma I don’t--” She’s gone before he can finish his sentence.

“ _Fuck_.” Lance gets up and goes after her a moment later, when he can hear the piano stop next door from Keith getting up to get the door.

He stumbles up off the couch and half runs to the door, using his hand on the open door frame to pivot himself into a faster turn without wiping out on his socked feet sliding on the floor.

When he arrives it’s not a screaming match. No, it never is with Nyma. She doesn’t get outwardly angry like most people. That’s what scares Lance the most, the deadly calm in her voice. At least when someone yells at him he can yell back. Him and _Keith_ are fully accustomed to that.

When he gets closer he’s shocked at what he hears. She’s not even got the voice going on. In fact, she’s _laughing._

When Lance turns the corner he sees her standing by Keith’s door, and she’s smiling. That just gets Lance wondering what the _hell_ , because if anyone were to calm down Nyma when she’s in one of her moods, Lance would think that Keith would be last on the list. He’s so utterly _un_ charming.

And yet here Nyma is, looking verifiably calmed down. Lance looks at Keith in bewilderment, who seems to finally notice him and his expression immediately changes. He gives Lance a strange look, one that Lance can’t really figure out what the hell it means, although he feels like Keith is definitely trying to communicate something to him right now.

The moment is lost as Nyma turns and notices Lance. She actually _smiles_ at him. “You never introduced me to your lovely neighbor.”

Lance looks at Keith like _what the fuck_ , and Keith shrugs.

Nyma walks over to take Lance’s arm. “He’s agreed to stop playing for while we’re watching. Isn’t that lovely?”  
Keith looks like he’s been personally victimized. Lance would almost find it funny if he didn’t think this entire situation was weird as hell.

“Come on Lance, let’s finish our movie.”  
Lance is left following after her, still bewildered.

 

\--

 

The next couple of days progress relatively normally, despite the weird incident at Keith’s apartment. Lance gets a couple of questions about Keith from Nyma, but other than that it’s like the entire incident never happened. Then, he’s on his way home from an afternoon class when something strange happens again.

When Lance gets home it takes him a second at first to notice what’s going on nextdoor. He’s just _way_ too into the song that he’s listening to right now to pay any sort of attention to his surroundings. Pidge always says that if anyone wanted to mug him he’d be completely defenseless and Lance has got to say that she’s completely right. That hasn’t ever stopped him before though.

He looks over halfway through unlocking his door to notice that there are two people standing in Keith’s doorway, and Keith is standing there, mouthing something at Lance, obviously trying to speak to him.

The other person turns around and Lance is instantly struck with surprise as to why _his girlfriend_ is at Keith’s apartment.

That causes him to pull out his headphones pretty quickly and look at the pair in surprise.

Keith seems relieved to have gotten Lance’s attention. “Lance.”

Lance looks at the pair, still in surprise. “Keith. Nyma, I didn’t know you were coming.”  
She smiles. “I was just coming to drop off your jacket, you left it at my place last night and I was coming by anyways. You weren’t here so I let myself in and left it on the counter, you should _really_ learn to lock your door. Then I just happened to run into Keith on the way out here.”

Lance wonders what the hell the look Keith is giving him right now means.

She looks over at Keith, seemingly oblivious. “Alright, well I’m going to get going, it was nice talking with you Keith. Sorry I can’t stay Lance, but I really need to get to work.”

Lance breaks from his trance and nods, smiling. “That’s alright.” She walks by for a kiss on the cheek on the way out.

When she’s down the stairs Lance turns to Keith. “What the hell?”

“She just showed up at my apartment! I didn’t seek her out or anything.” Keith looks desperate for Lance to believe him.

Lance _is_ angry, then he comes to his senses a little bit. “Fine, whatever. I can’t police who she _talks_ to.” He’s ready to storm off at that point, then Keith’s voice stops him.

“Wait. Lance.”

Lance turns back around to look at him.

It takes Keith a moment to speak, and when he does he’s hesitant. “I swear, I’m not interested in her, but I think she might have been… flirting with me.”

Lance’s eyes narrow. “Are you fucking _serious_ with me right now?”

Keith raises his hands like he’s surrendering. “Look, I’m just trying to warn you. I don’t know if she actually _was_ , but I thought you should know.”

“And since when would _you_ care how I felt?” Lance can’t believe this. He thought that Keith was low, but doing _this_ ?

Keith looks like his diplomacy is wearing thin. “I’m not a monster, Lance.”  
Lance scoffs. “Whatever, Keith. Don’t talk to me or my girlfriend again, alright?”

He storms back to his apartment and closes the door with a bang.

Keith _has_ to be wrong, right?

Lance doesn’t want to think about what it means if he’s not.

 

\--

 

After that things just get downhill again. Lance is noticeably more irritable with Keith, and Lance is pretty sure that Keith is incapable of staying away from conflict.

So.

Yelling becomes a common thing again between them. Lance finds himself watching the clock for when it turns eight so that he can provoke Keith. And then he finds himself asking when his life got this lame, and he became so petty.

Who is he kidding, he’s _always_ been petty.

At least getting angry at Keith helps to distract him from thinking about Keith.

In that regard he still thinks Keith is better off.

 

\--

 

Eventually all the worrying and stressing and uncertainty gets to Lance and he decides to go visit his girlfriend. He’s been so busy with school lately they haven’t had much time to spend together lately. All he needs is to get some quality time with her, assure himself that they’re fine. He just needs to get all of this out of his head, and prove to Keith that he’s wrong about this. About _everthing._

Lance grins to himself as he makes his way down the hall to Nyma’s apartment. He’s got to admit to himself, this is pretty brilliant of him. She’s gonna _love_ this surprise, she always complains he doesn’t do enough “romantic” things for him.

He stops outside her door, his fist raised and ready to knock, when he hears some weird noises coming from inside.

When he hears Rolo’s voice a moment later he realizes _exactly_ what’s happening.

He leaves the daisies in the hallway.

 

\--

 

Keith opens the door, a sigh already on his lips. “Look, if you’re here to tell me to stop practicing again I’d just like to remind you that we said none after eight, and it’s only seven fifteen--”

Lance rolls his eyes, his arms crossed. “That’s not why I’m here.”  
Keith’s straightens in surprise. “Alright. Then why are you here?”  
Lance doesn’t even attempt to explain and instead just nudges Keith out of the way so that he can make his way into the apartment. Surprisingly, Keith lets him by. It’s probably because Lance gave him no other option than physically _blocking_ him from the place.

Lance keeps walking until he’s well inside Keith’s tiny apartment and stops to look around the living room for a moment before he collapses back onto Keith’s couch, lying there.

Keith just stares at him in confusion for a moment. “What are you doing?”

Lance turns his head to look at Keith from over the arm of the couch. “I’m bored and my friends are all out so I thought, who better to hang out with than _Keith_ ?” In all honestly, Lance has no _idea_ what he’s doing. If anything, being in Keith’s company will just make him feel worse than he already does, because Keith was right the entire time. And yet, here he is. At least Keith told the truth to Lance, despite Lance acting like a total dick about it.  

God, he’s so _stupid._

Keith shuts the door slowly and makes his way into the living room, looking down at Lance still on the couch. “You don’t have to say my name in such a disgusted tone.”

“Whatever. Can I stay?”

Lance does his best to seem like his usual argumentative and rebellious self when it comes to Keith but Keith must see something else there in Lance’s expression. Because, for once he softens, then relents.

“Sure.”  
Lance nods, like he’d been expecting Keith’s reaction the whole time, although inside he’s filled with total, crashing relief. He’s not sure what he’d do if he got rejected once again at this point.

“Have you decided to forgive me then?” Keith looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

Lance knows that this must all seem strange. Yet, he doesn’t feel like explaining.

“Yeah. You were just trying to help. But me and Nyma are _fine,_ thank you very much.” Lance crosses his arms and waits for Keith to argue it.

Instead Keith just nods. “I’m glad to hear it. I didn’t _want_ you two to have problems. That would be awful.”

Lance sighs. “I didn’t know you would be so chatty.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Entertain me.”

“I don’t know what you want to do though. I’ve just been practicing piano.”

Lance waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Keith arches an eyebrow. “You _want_ me to play piano?”

“Well it’s not three in the morning is it?”

Keith doesn’t respond to his jab and instead still stands there, looking like this is the most confusing turn of events to ever happen to him. After a moment he breaks the silence, his voice hesitant.

“What do you want me to play?”

Lance blinks in surprise. That was by _no_ means the reaction that he was expecting out of this exchange. Being yelled at or chased out of the place would have been Lance’s first guesses.

He doesn’t need to think about Keith’s question too long. He had a while to think on the hurried walk back from Nyma’s apartment, where this was the first thing to come to mind.

“That one song you always play. I don’t know what it’s called but it’s like...” Lance hums a melody line that he hopes is familiar to Keith and not just utter gibberish.

Thankfully, Keith breaks into a smile that makes it clear that Lance has carried his point across.

“Chopin. It’s his most famous nocturne.”

Lance gives him a blank look. “What’s a nocturne?”

“Pieces written that are inspired by nighttime. They’re usually more tranquil, peaceful. Chopin wrote twenty-one of them for solo piano.”

Lance just looks at him for a moment before he closes his eyes. “Alright.”

Keith seems to take the hint well enough. When Lance opens his eyes the slightest bit to peek at Keith, he sees him sit down at the piano bench and sort of just stare at the instrument for a moment. He squeezes his eyes shut again when he starts to see Keith turn to look at him.

A couple of moments later there’s a shifting noise and Lance opens his eyes again as Keith starts to play.

This song is even more beautiful than he’d remembered it to be. Lance doesn’t understand how someone who can be as much of an _asshole_ as Keith can play something this gently, this beautifully. And he doesn’t understand how it can affect him this profoundly.

Lance never realized how beautiful an instrument the piano is when he’s not constantly yelling at the person playing it. Sure, he _still_ doesn’t understand why he’s here but it somehow feels like the right decision.

He watches Keith, how all the tension seems to melt out of his shoulders as he continues to play. And Lance realizes that he’s never actually _seen_ this done live.

He has to close his eyes again before he starts to feel guilty.

 

\--

 

When the first song that Keith plays ends, Lance is faced with another expectant look as Keith turns back around on the bench. He’s clearly expecting a reaction, and Lance isn’t really sure what to give him.

Lance speaks up just as Keith is opening his mouth.

“Why’d you stop? Play something else.”

Keith shuts his mouth. Then, he nods.

Lance wonders how suddenly they can be so civil.

 

\--

 

After Lance tells Keith to continue playing, he doesn’t turn around anymore. He just goes through an entire selection of music, playing a lot that Lance is familiar with and some that he isn’t. Eventually he runs out of things he has memorized and gets up to get a book from his library of sheet music against the wall. Lance is honestly just surprised he had that much memorized in the first place.

While Keith plays, Lance gets a good look around the place. It’s quite small, about the same size as Lance’s maybe a bit smaller. Except, Lance’s looks a _lot_ better. Sure, he’s not exactly the neatest but Keith clearly has _no_ eye for interior decoration. Everything looks like it was just the first thing that Keith spotted at the furniture store, with no eye for what would compliment each other.

There’s a tiny TV in the corner that looks like it’s at least fifteen years old, and the couch Lance is currently laying on isn’t in the best condition either. But then there’s the grand piano in the centre, obviously the focal point of the room, and it’s _pristine_. The shelf of sheet music Keith pulled books from is clearly meticulously maintained, judging by how easily Keith found the sheets he wanted to play from in there.

Lance still doesn’t understand Keith. Not that he’s made much of an effort to in the past. It’s easy to be angry at him, Lance isn’t sure how to feel when they’re at peace like this.

Lance is sure that Keith was busy with playing something a lot more boring before he came, but now he’s playing what sounds like his best pieces.

He wouldn’t be _showing off_ , would he?

Lance grins. Somehow he doesn’t put it past him.

 

\--

 

By the time it reaches eleven, Lance is about ready to sleep. Probably all of the calm music. The _last_ thing he wants is to pass out on Keith’s couch.

About an hour back Keith switched to just doing piano exercises and scales. Probably as a hint to tell Lance to leave. He’d just stuck around anyways, because of the fear of going off and being alone to his thoughts in his apartment again. He’d rather listen to the same notes being played over and over again than do that.

Strangely enough though, all he feels is disappointed. He’s not as crushed as he maybe would have expected. Honestly, what _did_ he expect? Lance has been trying to make a relationship with Nyma work since freshman year of college and it’s always ended badly. What he’s learned out of all of this is that he needs to stop trying to make things work so hard. Maybe for once he shouldn’t get attached to people, maybe he should just have some _fun_.

Lance should go to the club with Hunk again. It’s been awhile since they’ve done that, and it’s always a lot of fun. Besides, loud music and dancing should be a _great_ way for Lance to get his mind off all of this.

Lance pulls out his phone to shoot a text to Hunk. Maybe even Pidge will come if she’s feeling up to it, which is hardly ever. It’s enough of a struggle to get Pidge away from the computers when it’s just Lance’s apartment they’re going to for the day.

When he looks at his phone to send the message he realizes just how late it’s gotten, and just how much he really should get to bed so he’s not dying at work in the morning.

Keith stops playing whatever he’s working on at that point and Lance sits up on the couch. “Hey man, I think I’m gonna head out. I have to be up early.”  
Keith turns around and nods, looking the slightest bit relieved. He’s probably been dying to have a break for a while, but Lance has been monopolizing his attention for hours. Who would’ve thought _Keith_ would be too polite to shoo Lance away?

“Alright, well, it’s probably for the best I take a break.”

Lance gets up off the couch and stretches. Man, normally he would _never_ manage to sit still for that long. Keith is turned around fully on the piano bench, and Lance flashes him a sheepish smile.

“Thanks for the… entertainment.”

Keith nods. “No problem. At least I got to play past eight for once.”

Lance grins. “Yeah. Don’t expect it to be a habit though, buddy. You’re still on the hook.”

Keith opens his mouth to say something, probably to ask what the fuck is going on. Lance doesn’t even know _how_ to answer that question, so he says a quick “good night” before heading on his way.

When he leaves he’s pretty sure Keith’s still looking after him in confusion.

 

\--

 

Hunk comes over at eight the next afternoon. When Lance opens the door for him he’s immediately greeted by Hunk’s excited expression.

Lance holds out his hands. “Club night?”

“ _Club night_.” Hunk pulls Lance into a hug. “I missed this, man.”

Lance allows himself to be crushed by the strength of Hunk’s hug. “Me too.”

Hunk pulls back, his hands on Lance’s shoulders. “Are you ready to _party_?”

Lance grins. “ _Hell_ yeah.”

 

\--

 

They go to their favorite place. Lance didn’t realize how much he missed this place, the loud music, the dancing. It’s so _fun_.

Lance knows he turns into a bit of a hoe when he starts drinking but that is _not_ going to stop him from taking the shots the cute bartender keeps offering. Because, he would be insane to pass up on a guy with a jawline like that. It _definitely_ helps how good of a wingman Hunk always is.

And if Lance engages in some slutty dancing, who’s going to remember in the morning anyways?

 

\--

 

Apparently Hunk will remember in the morning. Because he is telling Pidge _all_ about it over coffee.

Lance _knew_ it was a mistake to go out when he has a hangover like this.

“Anyway, so he’s totally dancing with this person we think is a girl because they have this long, white hair, and this person turns around and it’s a _guy_. But you know our boy Lance, that doesn’t faze him. He just keeps flirting anyways.” Hunk turns to look at Lance. “What happened with you two anyways? I lost track for a while.”

“Yeah, cus you were flirting with that girl Shay. Why don’t we talk about that?” Lance is just desperate to get the attention off of him and his friends can clearly tell.

Pidge leans across the table. “No, I wanna hear about this guy.”

Lance groans and buries his head under his arms. “We totally drunk made out in the guy’s bathroom and then he ended up being a total creep, all he would talk about is how successful his family is and I wanted to die a little bit. I was looking for a way to escape anyways and then I sort of accidentally threw up on him and that was the end of it.”

“Wooooow. That is so romantic, you’ve really reached a new level in your life, haven’t you Lance?”

Lance looks up at her with a glare. “Fuck off, Pidge.”

Pidge grins like she does when she knows she’s got Lance beat.

 

\--

 

The second time that Lance invites himself over to Keith’s place is about a week after the first.

He’s bored, again, and he can hear Keith nextdoor, practicing as he always does. So, he grabs his keys and phone off the counter and makes his way on over there. It doesn’t take a lot of knocking before Keith responds. He looks surprised to see Lance. Maybe he didn’t think that Lance would come back again for another visit.

Keith gives him an awkward smile. “Hey…”

Lance gives Keith the friendly smile that he’s heard can win over anyone. At least, so he’s heard.

“Hey. I heard you practicing. I thought I’d come over for a bit again.”

Keith gives Lance a strange look for a long couple of moments before he nods slowly, opening the door wider for Lance to come in. Lance walks on over to the couch again and settles himself down, immediately going for his phone to check out instagram.

Keith goes over to the piano after a few moments of silence and continues playing.

Lance feels like he’s acting like a total creep right now, but whatever. This is slightly better than scrolling instagram on his own.

Slightly.

 

\--

 

One of the the most surprising turn of events of Lance’s adult life is how often he starts to go over to Keith’s place. Lance has always been one constantly in need of attention, and he hadn’t realized before how much of an untapped goldmine Keith has been this entire time.

It’s like he’s got his own personal musician, who will play for him for free, any time. It’s pretty much all Keith does anyways, which makes sense considering he does do it for a living. And sure, Lance would like it better if it was a rock band rather than classical music, but he’s pretty sure it’s all growing on him.

And it’s not all music. Sometimes they actually talk for a couple of seconds, when Lance comes in the apartment, or while Keith’s looking for new music. Keith stops acting surprised when Lance shows up, and he stops acting like it’s weird too. Eventually those couple of seconds of conversation turn into a couple of minutes, where Keith will ask how Lance’s work was, and they’ll talk about some performance Keith is doing in a while. It’s pretty mundane, and Lance wouldn’t say that him and Keith are _friends,_ per se. But he can’t say that they’re enemies anymore.

Lance finally tells Keith about him and Nyma breaking up, and Keith is surprisingly nice about it. Lance can tell that he’s trying to be comforting, in his own way.

Weird. He’s never seen that side of Keith before that.

It’s about a month a month and a half after Lance’s first visit to Keith’s, and he’s sitting at Keith’s table writing an essay on his laptop.

In the past Lance has never been able to focus on doing school assignments when there’s any sort of noise in the background. That’s what always caused him to bomb his finals in junior high, until he finally managed to get over himself enough to bring a pair of earplugs to the exams. Sure, it was awful, but he wouldn’t have gotten into the college he did without it.

Except now, he’s found that the music actually really helps, it’s a soothing background noise. He’d discovered it after a particularly frustrating time he had trying to do some problems that just weren’t making sense. The idea had just come to him to try and hang at Keith’s place to do it, since a change of location is always helpful, and it had been too late for the library that day. And it had _worked_.

Now this is his go to place to get work done. That means that he ends up seeing a lot more of Keith than he would have otherwise. But it works. Keith doesn’t seem to mind it and Lance is surprised how well they can just sit in each other’s company without feeling the need to talk. That kind of connection is rare, especially when it’s with someone like Lance who can’t stand awkward silences and tends to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind in the hopes of initiating a conversation.

One time Lance has already been there for a couple of hours when it reaches seven o'clock, and his stomach is starting to make some seriously loud complaints of hunger. Up until that point it’s been more of a feeling than anything else, and the noises have been relatively quiet.

This particular noise however, is loud enough that even Keith at the piano hears it, and stops playing to look around at Lance.

He quirks up an eyebrow. “What that your _stomach_?”

Lance gives him a sheepish grin. “Yeah. She gets a bit persistent if not fed for a while.”

Keith gives him a _look_. “She?” He shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment, seemingly regaining his composure. “Why didn’t you say anything. You’ve just been sitting here hungry?”

“Well, I was gonna go over to my place and get myself some food but I got really into a working mood for once which is weird, then I thought I would just stick it out. That was like, an hour ago and now I’m starving, but I got my work done, see!” Lance angles his laptop around so that Keith can see the (totally impressively long) essay that Lance wrote.

Keith rolls his eyes, clearly amused. “Yeah, but now you’ve starved yourself.”  
Lance makes a _psh_ noise. “Like you’ve never gone without eating for a while because you got really into your piano.”

Keith opens his mouth slightly as if he’s going to respond, then shuts it again.

Lance grins. “I knew it!”

Keith actually _pouts_ at that. “Whatever.”

Lance sighs. “I should probably make some food or something, though. I guess.”

Keith nods. “Yeah. I’d say me too, but I have nothing in the fridge.”

Lance sighs, remembering his struggle eating dry cereal this morning because there was no milk in the fridge. “Me too. Take out it is, I guess. There’s no way I’m walking to the grocery store in the _snow_ to get food. I’m sure it’s not nice for you either, with that motorcycle.”

“Yeah. It’s annoying in the winter, but still worth it.”

Lance rolls his eyes. He’s never really gotten the bike thing. “If you say so.”

An idea comes to him. “Hey, if you’re getting takeout, why don’t we just order both from the same place? We can save on delivery cost then.”

Keith gets up and walks over to the table where Lance is. “Sure. Where were you thinking?”

“Like, as much pizza as possible.”

Keith hums in approval. “Alright. Sure.”  
Lance claps his hands together. “Good! It’s a plan.”

 

\--

 

Things go relatively smoothly from there, despite Lance’s initial betrayal when Keith asked for pineapple on his pizza. However, in the spirit of friendship, he’s willing to look past that to keep the mood light.

After Lance hangs up the phone they have a forty minute waiting time before their pizza arrives, and Lance is now done his paper.

Keith looks like he’s ready to go back to the piano, but Lance has other ideas.

“Hey, do you wanna come over to my place? It’s just that I have a nicer TV and I thought that maybe we could just watch some TV or something while we wait.”

Keith looks at him in surprise for a moment, before he nods. “Alright, sure. What do you want to watch?”

Lance grins. “You like Star Trek?”

Keith’s grin matches Lance’s. “ _Yes_.”

 

\--

 

Forty minutes later they’re so into Star Trek they almost completely forget about the pizza they ordered. As soon as they remember they pause the episode Keith runs over next door to buzz the poor guy up. At least they tip him well.

They’re back on Lance’s couch, Keith with his disgusting pineapple pizza and Lance with his sensible one, and Lance is struck but how much he _likes_ talking to Keith. They chat idly while watching the show, and Keith knows the show almost as well as Lance. It’s almost got Lance wondering whether or not Keith would do well in a _group_. With Lance’s friends.

Lance looks over to see Keith’s profile, lit up only by the light of the TV because they had both insisted the lights needed to be off maximum viewing enjoyment. And he takes in the way that Keith smiles when Spock says something unintentionally funny.

And he wonders.

 

\--

 

After they watch Star Trek for the first time together, Lance realizes that although the silences with Keith are good, maybe they don’t always have to be silences. Keith and Lance are still yet to go anywhere together that’s not each other’s apartments, but they start to do other things.

First of all, they watch TV a lot. And Lance tries to get Keith into video games, which usually turns into a shouting match, but it’s not like their old hostility. It’s a friendly sort of competition, one that keeps Lance into the game and enjoying it. It’s nice.

Whenever Lance isn’t out with Pidge and Hunk he’s over at Keith’s, watching some old movie or TV show that they both like.

Up until now every time they’ve hung out it’s been in one of their apartments, but now for the first time Keith and Lance have gone somewhere else together.

Finally, after days of whining, Lance has convinced Keith to come with him to get some tacos. Sure, Keith had some reservations when he saw how sketchy the place looked (Lance couldn’t even argue with that one), but now they’ve got their order and they’re seated, ready to eat.

Keith unwraps his first taco carefully and looks at Lance. “I’ve only seen these in movies. How do you eat them?”

Lance rolls his eyes good naturedly. He’d done that as well when Keith had just made Lance order for him. He unwraps one of his own tacos and picks it up, taking a bite while maintaining eye contact with Keith.

Lance is _impressively_ good at eating tacos. It’s one of his few skills. He doesn’t spill any on his face, or the wrapper. When he’s chewed and swallowed he grins at Keith. “Now it’s your turn.”

Keith nods. He takes a breath like he’s steeling himself for some major task, and picks up his own taco. Then, he leans in, his hair falling into his eyes, and takes a bite.

And Lance can honestly say that Keith does _not_ have a gift for eating tacos because he takes _one_ bite and the entire taco explodes. Lance really should have gotten Keith a soft one, because the crust cracks and toppings spill onto the wrapping paper and all over Keith’s hands.

Keith just sort of looks at the mess for a moment, lettuce hanging out of his mouth, and Lance nearly chokes on the pepsi he’d been sipping. He coughs violently for a couple of moments, laughing at the same time, which sort of hurts a little bit.

During this fit Lance reaches over and passes some napkins to Keith, because he feels mildly guilty for setting Keith up like that.

Keith wipes off his hands and chin, looking betrayed all the while.

Lance takes one more look at his face and bursts out laughing again.

Keith glares at Lance. “You did that on purpose!”

Lance has calmed down enough at this point to actually form words. “Well, not exactly. I actually did want to get tacos, but this was just a… byproduct.”

Keith finishes wiping off his face and hands and drops the napkins. “Did I get it all?”  
Lance grabs a napkin and leans over the table to wipe off the blob of sour cream on Keith’s cheek, then drops the napkin. Then he offers him a bright smile. “Now you did.”

Keith looks like he wants to be angry for a moment longer, then his expression softens and he breaks into a smile as well. “Okay, it was pretty funny.”

“ _Right_?”

Keith looks at the rest of his tacos. “How am I going to eat these?”

Lance picks up his again. “Just watch me, I’ll show you the art.”

 

\--

 

Keith manages to get through the rest of his tacos decently well. He doesn’t have another major spilling incident, and he gets through all of them like a champ.

They’re walking back to their building together, because the place was so close Lance insisted that Keith didn’t have to take them there on his bike. Besides, he’s kind of terrified of motorcycles.

The walk is nice. Lance and Keith get to chat for a bit, and the cold isn’t too bad.

Lance is in the middle of telling Keith about how much better the weather in Cuba is than here when Keith is suddenly sliding on a patch of ice on the ground.

Lance’s immediate reaction is to grab him and save him from falling. It results in Lance holding Keith to him, so that they’re facing each other, and Keith looks up at Lance, breathing hard.

And then Lance has _another_ reaction without thinking, but this time it’s infinitely less helpful.

He breaks into a crooked grin. “Guess I’ve got you falling for me pretty nicely, right?”

Keith looks at him, open mouthed for a moment, before Lance realizes what the hell he just said, and the position that they’re in, and forces himself to break into some laughter, like it had all been a joke. He helps Keith straighten up back onto his own feet and lets go of him.

“Did you just _hit_ on me?” Keith doesn’t look annoyed at all, actually.

“The opportunity was too good. I mean, you literally fell into my arms.” Lance grins, enjoying the teasing.

Keith rolls his eyes. “It’s just because I was slipping.”

“You just can’t accept the fact that I _totally_ saved your life.”

“Yeah right,” Keith scoffs.

Lance can’t help but notice when they pass a streetlight that Keith’s face is flushed.

He nudges his shoulder playfully rather than linger on that observation. “How are you ever gonna repay me, Keith?”

Keith glances over at him, the corner of his mouth curled up. “I’ll take it as an apology for the taco incident.”

Lance considers it for a moment. “Deal.”

 

\--

 

Throughout the next couple of weeks Lance and Keith try out all sorts of different places. Yet still he never tells Pidge and Hunk about where they’re going. Maybe he just isn’t ready to explain it to them.

Lance _knows_ it’s not a big deal, yet still somehow it still feels like it. Keith isn’t any different from his other friends, is he?

 

\--

 

Lance is at his favorite cafe for a cup of coffee after class when it happens. There’s this cute barista, Katie, that’s been working there for a while, and before Lance had gotten back together with Nyma he’d been trying to convince her into letting him take her out on a date. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seemed too open to his attempts.  
He decides to take another try at it, for fun.  
So, he orders something from a coworker and sits down at the bar, ready to make his move.  
  
\--  
  
Twenty minutes later Lance is on his second cup coffee and things are going surprisingly well. Maybe it’s because Lance isn’t just using cheesy pickup lines this time.

Lance grins, taking a sip of his coffee. “So, what’re you in college for?”

She rests her chin on her hand. “Music. I play the viola.”

Lance lets out a low whistle. “Impressive.”

She motions towards him with her free hand. “What about you?”

“Mechanical engineering. I’m in my last year, I’m hopefully going to move on to designing spacecraft in the future.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “An engineer?”

Lance nods, with a proud grin. “Yep.”

The corner of her mouth crooks up. “We wouldn’t really have all that much in common, would we then? Music and engineering are almost exact opposites.”

Lance shakes his head. “That’s not true at all.”

“Oh really? Do you have an interest in classical music.”

Lance knows this is a bad idea, he really does, but he can’t resist. Not when he’s so close.

“In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I love classical music.”

She looks visibly surprised at that response. “Really?”

Lance nods. He’s in way too deep now anyways. “Yep. I’m a fan.”

She gives him a suspicious look. “Alright. Then who’s your favorite composer?”

Lance says the first name that comes to mind that’s not Mozart, because he’s pretty sure that would be way too obvious that he’s a faker.

“Chopin. I really love his nocturnes. They’re so beautiful, and… tranquil.”

Her eyes light up. “So you like piano? Strings are better but that’s still a good choice.”

Lance nods, grinning at the fact that she bought it. But now he really needs to run before she turns this into a conversation, because he does not have a single other fact.

“This has been great, but I really have to get to class.”

She nods quickly, clearly disappointed for the conversation to be over. “I’ll see you around?”  
Lance nods. “Definitely.”  
  
\--  
  
Lance knocks on Keith’s door for a solid thirty seconds before Keith finally opens. Lance knows that he’s home, because he checked the parking garage just to make sure Keith’s motorcycle was parked there.

When the door swings open Lance can see that Keith’s hair is wet, and he looks like he’s gotten dressed in a hurry after a shower. He glares at Lance when he sees him and sighs, turning back into the apartment, leaving the door open behind him.

Lance takes the hint to let himself in and swings the door shut behind him. Keith disappears into the bathroom for a moment before coming back with a towel, rubbing his hair dry with it. He looks up at Lance, and Lance is struck with how fucking hot he looks right now.

Keith pauses with the towel and straightens up, giving Lance a look. “Why would you knock on my door in such a hurry then just stare at me like that?”  
Lance shakes his head to clear it and snaps back to reality. “Right. Yeah, sorry. I need your help.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “My help? For what?”

Lance is just blessing every god he can think of at this point that Keith’s wearing a shirt right now. Otherwise there is no way that he’d be able to focus. “Um, your help. Yeah. With a girl.”

Keith’s expression morphs into surprise. Then, breaks into a laugh. “Why would you ask me for help with a girl? You know I’m probably like, the least qualified, right?”

Okay so, that is really not helping the dilemma Lance has been having lately over whether or not Keith is gay. Lance isn’t sure he wants to know. Either way it’s awful. If he’s not, because then Lance has no chance, if he is, because Lance does theoretically have a chance and he won’t be able to stop thinking about that.

Fuck, he’s distracted again.  
“Okay, so there’s this girl that’s going to my university right now, and I see her at this cafe on campus all the time, and we’ve been kind of having this flirty thing going on for a while now. Except, I’m trying to actually get her out on a date now, and she’s kind of a total classical music snob. She’s studying the viola or something, I don’t know. My problem is that I pretended to know something about classical music once because it was a fact I just happened to remember from when you told me, and now she thinks I actually know things! And I don’t, and I’m going to look like a total loser if that fact comes out.”

Lance lets out the whole thing in a breathless ramble, with some vivid hand gesturing involved.  
Keith has finished with his hair at this point and drapes the towel over the back of one of the chairs at the table. He rolls his eyes at Lance. “Of course you got yourself into this situation.”

Lance sighs, flopping down onto the chair. “Will you help me or not?”

Keith stares at him for a moment before his expression softens and he looks up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Lance. Then the corner of his mouth curls up, and there’s a new light in his eyes. “What did you want to know?”  
  
\--  
  
Over the next couple of days Lance gets a complete crash course on classical music, its history, famous composers, the works. Sure, it’s technically a big favor that Keith is doing for Lance, but it really feels like Keith is having the most fun out of this whole thing.

Keith is honestly one of the biggest nerds that Lance has ever met. Like, almost at the same level as Lance himself.

And Lance loves it.

In fact, Lance loves it so much he doesn’t even tell Keith when he manages to totally impress this girl with his newfound knowledge and get her number. It only takes a day of Keith’s instruction to get to that point.

Now it’s day three and Lance is feeling a little bit guilty. Keith has been so helpful and Lance is kind of straight up lying to him.

“Okay, so that’s when the differentiation between the two instruments really started. You know, many people prefer the expressiveness of the violin, but I have always loved what you can do with the piano.” Keith stops, then his face turns pink. “Sorry, I’m getting off topic again. She probably doesn’t want to hear about how piano is better.”

Lance realizes that he’s expected to input something. He’s been too busy watching how into this Keith is. He breaks into a smile. “Yeah, maybe not.”  
Keith traces his finger along the edge of his drink glass. “When do you think you’re gonna talk to her?”

Lance shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m sorry if I’ve been annoying you, with taking so long.”

Keith shakes his head almost immediately. “No, you haven’t bothered me at all.” He gives Lance one of those shy smiles of his. “I’ve liked talking about it with you. I know it’s for a girl but I still like it when people show interest.”

That smile seals Lance’s fate.

He is so utterly fucking gone over this guy.  
  
\--  
  
Lance goes into a bit of a freak out mode when he gets home. He needs to stop thinking about Keith like this, especially when he’s got a date with this girl tonight. It’s not fair to her, and it’s especially not fair to himself. He’s already not used to the idea of being friends with Keith, let alone trying to make a move at him.

Besides, trying to be light and breezy with your neighbor is a total recipe for disaster.

No, he just needs to focus on the total victory he got in scoring this date and have a really nice time tonight.  
If only he could really believe that.  
  
\--  
  
Lance has a surprisingly nice time on his date. Keith’s knowledge allows him to hold an actual conversation about classical music with Katie that makes him sound like he knows exactly what he’s talking about. She totally buys it, and Lance kind of impresses himself.

She can actually be kind of fun when she’s not annoyed with Lance’s antics. She stuffs breadsticks in her purse when the waiter isn’t looking and when her and Lance get outside she helps him split the loot.

Lance kind of likes her, a lot. Yet still when it gets to the end of the night and he can see that now is the opportunity to kiss her, he still just finds himself just saying good night.

He reminds himself that they’re going out again later in the week. There’s still time.  
  
\--  
  
Lance is on his way to his apartment from the staircase up when he sees Keith exit his own place, trash bag in hand. He looks surprised to see Lance, and there’s this second where he kind of just looks Lance up and down, then seems to realize what he’s doing and his eyes snap back up to Lance’s face. Lance can’t blame him, he know he looks fine tonight. He wore all his best date clothes.

Lance tries to ignore the way that Keith’s face is tinged pink, he really does.

“How was the date?” Keith rests the trash bag on the ground.

Lance grins. “It went really well! Thanks again for all the help, she seemed really impressed with everything I knew.”

“Good! I’m glad it went well, glad I could help.” Keith’s enthusiasm seems a little unnatural, a little forced, and Lance can definitely tell something’s off.

He just decides to give Keith the benefit of thinking he’d fooled Lance. That’s obviously what he’d want.

Lance smiles. “Well, good night. Have fun with your trash.”

Keith looks at the bag like he’d forgotten it was there. “Yeah. Right, thanks?”

Lance nods and heads towards his door. “You are so welcome.”

A moment later he hears Keith head down the hallway.  
  
\--

 

Lance is walking through the mall clothes shopping the next day when he passes a novelty store. Something in the window catches his eye, and he stops to look at it. There’s an entire _collection_ of mini instruments, and they’re so well made it’s actually really cool. Lance finds himself walking into the store just to get a closer look at them. The guitar is _so_ awesome. Lance is _seriously_ tempted.

Then, he notices the piano.

There’s a mini grand piano figurine, and Lance kind of just stares at it for a moment. The keys are so tiny, and it’s so cute.

Suddenly, there’s a voice behind him. “I see you like the piano?”

Lance straightens up and turns around to see a smiling store worker behind him.

“Uhhh.”

She motions towards the piano figurine. “The replica. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Handmade, the attention to detail is just incredible. Do you play?”

Lance shakes his head. “No, but I know someone who does.”

“Christmas is coming up, it _would_ be a great gift idea.”

Lance knows that he shouldn’t let himself get convinced into things by store workers, but the more he thinks about this, the more he really wants to get this for Keith.

Keith _has_ been so nice to him, with helping him out with Katie and everything. He’s really taken the time to help Lance out, and Lance appreciates it a lot.

And there’s the fact that he keeps thinking about Keith’s reaction if he were to give this to him.

Lance doesn’t want to think about how good that makes him feel.

 _Fuck_.

He looks at the piano for a few moments before turning back to the saleslady. “How much?”

 

\--  
  
Lance is out with Katie a couple of days later again, this time at some concert she had tickets to. When she had said concert, Lance had thought of something pop or rock related. He really should have known better.

He’s sitting through one of the most boring orchestral pieces of his life. It’s the strangest thing, it’s like when Keith plays Lance can’t get enough of the music. He’s invested in the piano, and how beautiful it is.

By the time the forty minute song has ended Lance feels like he’s lost a year of his life. Apparently it’s not all classical music that he’s into.

Afterwards, Katie is rambling on about how perfect the head violist’s technique was, and how good he utilised vibrato and Lance is just not sure he can take it anymore. Maybe this was a mistake, thinking he could pretend to have the same interests as her.

Yet, it makes no sense. He didn’t feel like he was bored out of his mind when he was learning everything from Keith.

Maybe it’s just because the information came from Keith. It’s entirely possible that’s the reason.

It only takes another thirty seconds of rambling for Lance to realize that that is the reason.

That’s the exact moment that Lance realizes that all this isn’t going to work out.

Oh god, how is he going to break this to Katie?  
  
\--  
  
Lance gets home that night completely exhausted. He just broke it off with a girl that he’d been interested in forever because of one boring conversation. He’s never done anything like that in his life. She deserved a lot better than that. And yet, Lance doesn’t regret it.

When Lance gets to the floor of his apartment he already knows he’s in trouble. He can hear the sound of the piano from Keith’s place. Obviously Keith still thinks that Lance is out, and it’s not like Lance can march over there to tell him to stop playing without revealing that he’s actually home.

The last person Lance wants to have to talk to right now is Keith.

So, he enters his apartment quietly and strips down to his boxers and climbs into bed. And lays there, haunted by the sound of the piano.

He wishes he could just be bored by it.

\--

 

Lance wouldn’t say that he’s avoiding Keith the next couple of days, but he’s avoiding Keith. He makes his way through their shared hallway as quickly as possible in the mornings and afternoons, and he doesn’t make any effort to actually go visit Keith. He feels like kind of an asshole for doing it, but he’s just really not in the mood to deal with it right now.

Lance makes it four days without an interaction, before he sees Keith again. He’s on his way out of the building as Lance enters, and it’s too late for him to avoid it by the time he notices him.

Keith stops, and offers Lance a smile. “Hey, how have you been, I haven’t seen you lately.”

Lance lets out a breath that puffs while in the cold air. “Good! I’ve just… been busy.”

Keith doesn’t seem like he immediately calls bullshit on Lance, so that’s good. “How was the trip to the orchestra with that girl?”  
Lance sighs. “It was alright. Don’t really think the relationship is going to work out though.”

Keith gives him a sympathetic look. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Lance shifts his feet, kicks idly at a pebble on the ground. “Yeah, look, sorry I’ve gotta go, alright? I’ll see you around?”

Keith nods, but Lance is already on his way by.  
\--  
  
The next couple of weeks, Lance and Keith don’t see each other much. Lance is so busy studying for his finals that he doesn’t have any time to go over to Keith’s, not that he would really want to anyways. He’s still confused over everything that happened with Katie, and he’s pretty sure seeing Keith would just make him feel worse at this point.

Once finals are finally over, he can get excited about Christmas. Because of how busy he’d been with all the studying, he barely has any time to go shopping for gifts before he has to leave. He ends up going all across town over the course of two days to collect gifts before his flight, because he knows there won’t be time to get the gifts once he’s back in his home town.

It all goes by in a blur, and suddenly it’s the night before his flight at six in the morning, and he’s actually packed everything in advance for once.  
Once he sorts through the mess that is his apartment, he notices a gift wrapped box that he got at a store a couple of weeks ago.

He never did give that gift to Keith. He’d been meaning to do it, then he’d broken it off with Katie and hadn’t been in the mood to talk to Keith much.

It’s definitely past the return date, and there’s no use in wasting it when he’s already paid for it, and it was not cheap. Apparently good quality stuff actually costs a lot of money, Lance isn’t too used to that fact. He usually just buys whatever’s cheapest and hopes it won’t break too fast.

Lance stares down at the box for a moment, before starting over to Keith’s apartment. He needs to do this before he thinks through it too much.

He’s already knocking on Keith’s door when he starts to feel guilty about how this has all turned out. He hasn’t seen Keith in weeks, and now he’s about to go away for two weeks, and he hasn’t even told Keith he’s leaving.  

So, Lance is kind of the worst.

When Keith opens the door he looks like he’s a bit wary of why Lance is there. Lance would be too, if someone had just straight up ignored him for a month and then came around again.

Keith looks out into the hallway for a moment before looking back at Lance. “Hey.”

Lance offers him a weak smile. “Hey. I just wanted to say bye, since I’m leaving to go visit my family for the holiday tomorrow.”

Keith nods. “Oh. Alright. Have a nice time.”

Lance sighs. “Listen, I’m really sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve been super busy with finals, and with packing and everything and I know it’s not really an excuse since I kind of blew you off, and that’s a shitty way to treat a friend.”

Keith’s expression shifts slightly, softens a bit. “So you admit we’re friends.”

Lance nods. “Yeah, buddy, we are. And I’m the worst.”

The corner of Keith’s mouth twitches up. “Good to finally hear it. How were the finals?”  
Lance grins. “Amazing! They went so well.”

The smile that Keith has makes Lance realize just how much he’s missed him.

“Good. You need to do well in, what was it you were doing again?”

Lance is betrayed for a moment before he realizes Keith is joking, and laughs. “Very funny.”

Keith full on grins this time. “It’s not like you don’t deserve it.”

Lance nods, just extremely happy how well this is going. “You’re right. I do deserve it.”

Keith finally seems to notice the package that Lance has been holding this entire time. He gives Lance a questioning look. “What’s that?”

Lance remembers suddenly his reason for coming. “Oh! Right, yeah. I got this for you a while back to thank you for helping out with the whole Katie thing. I thought I’d drop it off as a christmas gift before I leave tomorrow.” Lance holds out the package to Keith.

Keith takes it carefully, looking up from it at Lance. “You never said we were getting gifts. Now I don’t have anything.”

Lance holds up his hands in front of him. “Not necessary. Think of it as a much needed apology.”

Keith looks at it for a moment, clearly skeptical, then his expression melts into a smile. “Thank you, Lance.”

Lance grins. “You’re welcome. You can open it later if you want, I should probably go to bed. My flight’s pretty early.”

Keith leans against the doorframe. “Have a nice trip, Lance.”

Lance is halfway turned around to leave when he stops and turns back. “Give me your phone.”

Keith looks at him in confusion, but still pulls it out of his pocket and hands it over. “Why?”

Lance snickers as he swipes it unlocked. “Of course you don’t have a passcode.” He goes to the contact app and makes a new contact for himself, typing in his number. Then, he hands the phone back to Keith.

“Text me over the vacation, alright? Don’t be a stranger.”

Keith stares at it for a moment then nods, and looks up at Lance with a bright smile. “I will.”

Lance is alright leaving Keith for a bit on that smile.

 

\--

 

Lance gets a text ten minutes later when he’s getting into bed. It’s a picture of the piano figurine.

 

(11:21) _Thanks again, Lance. I love it_

 

Lance types out a quick response, then drops his phone on his chest with a happy sigh.

 

(11:22) You’re welcome :-)

 

\--

 

The trip is really nice, and Lance gets to see the family he’s missed so desperately. He and Keith text on and off throughout it, and Lance realizes how much he really missed talking to him. He’s not sure how he managed those few weeks without Keith before.

Lance honestly doesn’t care about confusing feelings at this point. He just wants to see Keith again.

 

\--

 

Lance is filled with a nervous anticipation when he gets home from his trip. On the one hand he had been sad to leave his family again, but on the other hand he couldn’t wait to get back. He’s not sure _what_ he’s expecting with Keith, but he knows that he just wants to find out _something_. See Keith again, try and figure out what the hell is going on. The day that he gets back he goes out with Hunk and Pidge first, because he missed those losers a lot too.

They’re all picking flavors at an ice cream place (yes, Lance insisted on ice cream in the middle of the winter) when Lance can’t hold it in anymore.

“Keith and I are sort of friends now. Not sort of even. We are friends. Also, I think I might be kind of gay for him.”

They kind of just stare at him for a moment.

  
\--

Lance only gets home at midnight after a surprisingly supportive talk with his friends and an all together nice outing. It’s too late to go to Keith’s now, but he’s still tempted. But he has work again in the morning. He should _really_ go to bed.

That doesn’t mean that he likes it.

 

\--

 

Lance gets home from work and some honestly desperately needed grocery shopping around seven in the afternoon, and first stops to put the groceries away in his own place before he heads over to Keith’s.

He knocks on the door, holding his breath, which he lets out when he sees Keith again, because was it possible he forgot how gorgeous this guy really is?

Keith beams when he sees Lance. “Hey! You’re back.”

Lance settles into a shaky grin. “You almost sound like you missed me.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Are you here to come in or were you just saying hi?”

“Nope, I’m here to visit, if you’ll have me.”

Keith steps aside to allow Lance into the apartment, and Lance follows through the doorway. He can hear Keith’s voice behind him as Keith closes the door.

“How was the trip?”

Lance looks around, half wondering if the place has changed. He can see that it hasn’t. “It was great! I missed my mom a lot, and my siblings. It was awesome seeing them again.”

He stops in front of the shelves of sheet music, smiling when he sees the tiny piano sitting there. It seems like Keith has cleared a spot for it, so that it easily draws attention. He reaches out to touch it gently. “How was your Christmas?”

“Good! My friend Shiro came over and we spent it together.”

Lance grins, turning around. “I don’t want to be rude but I missed you playing.”

Keith’s eyes light up.

 

\--

 

Keith is in a Chopin mood today. He starts to show Lance an entire collection of his etudes, after he’s played some of Lance’s personal favorites first. Lance just lays back and takes it all in. He’d tried listening to some of this stuff over the break, when he was missing Keith, but it hadn’t sounded the same. The pianist always played it slightly wrong, not exactly the way that Keith does, and it would annoy Lance to the point where he had to shut it off.

Lance opens his eyes when the piece Keith is playing finishes. Before Keith can move on to the next one Lance sits up.

“That one was different. Weirdly calmer than the other ones were.”

Keith turns around with a bright smile, the one that he has every time that Lance shows interest in his music.

“That one is called Tristesse, it means sadness in French. Although, it’s a lot more nostalgic than anything. There’s a lot of stories that say that Chopin wrote it with Poland in mind, because of the way that he missed his home country.”

“Wait, so he left there when he was twenty, right? Then he moved to Paris?”

Keith beams, at that and nods. “Exactly!”

Lance leans forward in interest. “How do you manage to make it sound so emotional though? I mean, I’ve never gotten it.”

Keith’s eyes narrow in the way that they usually do when he’s thinking hard about something. He looks up at Lance. “It’s easier if I just show you, it’s not easy to explain.”

Lance nods. “Alright.” He gets up from the couch and stretches out his legs, they’ve been asleep from sitting still so long. It’s honestly amazing that he manages to sit still as long as he does when he listens to Keith play. Especially when he would normally be bored out of his mind with all that old music. He had this third grade teacher that would force the class to listen to classical music while they did their reading and he hated her. Except, he doesn’t hate Keith.

Keith slides down the bench when Lance walks up to it to make room for Lance to sit beside him.

Keith nods. “Alright, so expressing emotion in music is difficult, to say the least. That’s actually what a lot of beginners struggle with when they start playing, because it’s not like singing where your voice is your instrument, it’s a set of hammers and strings, y’know? But that doesn’t mean that you can’t express anything still, that you can’t make the piece your own.”

Lance watches, transfixed as Keith gently places his fingertips on the keys.

“The way you express certain emotions is all through dynamics. You change the volume, the intensity of certain notes, and the length that you play them. The emphasis that you put on each notes determines how the melody will sound.”

Lance would like to say that he understands but he really doesn’t. Keith seems to get this just based off of Lance’s facial expression, and rushes to speak up again.

“Here, I’ll show you an example. Here’s what this one line of Tristesse sounds like if you just play it exactly how it’s written and nothing more.”  
Keith plays for a few seconds then cuts it off.

“It sounds flat,” Lance remarks, and Keith nods.

“See, here is where you emphasize certain parts of the melody, to create this melancholic emotion.” He plays it again, this time like the way that he played it initially and Lance finds himself watching Keith’s closed eyed expression more than he does the keyboard.

Keith opens his eyes when the line ends and sucks in a quick breath when he notices Lance’s gaze on his face. Lance looks away after a moment, feeling his heart thud unusually loud in his chest.

Keith clears his throat, looking back at the piano, and Lance can tell in the faint moonlight streaming through the apartment window that his cheeks are tinted pink.

“You see, that version sounded a whole lot different. Richer.”

Lance nods. “But how do you know which notes to emphasize? How do you make it make sense like that?”

Keith shrugs, his expression lighting up a little in an almost dreamy fashion. “That’s the part that’s hard to explain. It’s different for everyone. For me, I like to imagine the melody in my head, and how it feels when you think of it in the light of that specific emotion. You see, that’s what I love about piano. I was never good at singing, but I am good at this. Because, you don’t have to be naturally gifted like you do with singing. Sure, talent goes a long way, but anyone can catch up to the most gifted pianist if they work hard enough. It’s eighty-eight keys, eighty-eight notes, and you’d think that that would limit you but it doesn’t. There’s a world of possibility.”

Lance is lost. He is so, so lost in Keith’s eyes, and in his expression, and it takes him a moment to remember how to breathe right again.

When he does it’s shaky, shaky as Lance leans in closer and closer to Keith, reaching up to lightly touch Keith’s jaw, right by the neck with a trembling hand. Lance leans in until he’s right up against Keith’s lips, and they’re kissing. Keith’s lips are soft under Lance’s, pliant, and Lance slides his hand back to gently run it through Keith’s hair.

They pull back after a moment and Lance opens the eyes he doesn’t even realized he’s closed and then Keith is taking in a breath of his own, right up until the point where his lips are pressed against Lance’s again.

Lance lets go of the reservations he’s been holding these last few weeks and decides once and for all fuck it. He kisses back, insistent yet gentle. This, this is what he’s been craving. And it’s even so much better than he imagined.

They pull apart for a second time a few moments later. Keith opens his eyes to look at Lance, and Lance is transfixed in the little breathless laugh that Keith lets out.

“Well that was… unexpected.”

Lance grins, leaning back a bit so that he can run his hand through his hair once.

“Yeah, sorry. I just couldn’t help but kiss you when you looked like that.”

The corner of Keith’s mouth twitches up. “Looked like what?” His voice kind of cracks a little, which gives Lance some small goosebumps.

Lance says it outright, straightforward. It’s like he’s turning into Keith.

“Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. You were talking like the song and that piano were the most incredible things in the world, and I guess some of the enthusiasm carried over.”

Keith glances at the piano then back up at Lance. “I still haven’t played you my favorite piece yet.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “You’ve played me a ton of songs, how have you not played me your favorite one yet?”

Keith shrugs. After a moment’s hesitation he responds. “I could play it for you right now, if you wanted.”

Lance nods enthusiastically. “Lay it on me.”

Keith takes in a breath. “All right.” He moves his hands to hover over the keys and Lance notices the slightest bit of a tremble in the way that he positions his fingers.

“Hey, what about the title? You can’t just leave me hanging.” Lance can tell that Keith is nervous about playing this one. He wonders why, Keith hasn’t really seemed nervous in the past about playing anything for Lance. If anything he’s always seemed to enjoy the attention.

Keith looks up as though startled and nods. “Right, sorry. It’s called Liebestraum. It’s the third and final one in a series of pieces with the same name.”  
Lance has no understanding of what he is pretty sure is German, but he just nods along anyways. It’s obvious Keith isn’t feeling his usual chatty self about the entire history of this one, so Lance isn’t going to push.

Instead, he just gives Keith an encouraging gesture. “Alright, now start.”

Keith takes a moment then presses the first key, a soft single note, which turns into a sort of flowing melody that leaves Lance mesmerized almost immediately.

Lance still doesn’t know the meaning of the title and maybe he doesn’t know all the history around this song but what he does know is the way that it makes him feel.

It’s so incredibly beautiful. He feels it in his chest, and the way that he breathes. Maybe he’s actually starting to catch onto all this piano stuff that Keith is always going on about. At least, he finally gets what Keith means about how beautiful it all can be. Lance wants to listen to this song for the rest of his life, if he’s perfectly honest.

Lance can see how Keith changes while playing it. His breath falls in time with the rhythm, and every movement is precise, as if he’s done this a thousand times before. And maybe he has. It’s breathtaking to see this all up so close, normally the most he can see is the way that Keith’s back moves. Now, he can see every facial expression, every emotion.

It’s a lot to take in.

The song passes all too quickly. However yet it seems to all fit together so perfectly. As the last notes echo out, Lance is left sitting in a room and all there is is the piano and the moonlight fading in the window.

And Keith turns to look at him with an unguarded expression and asks, “so? What did you think?”

Lance can do nothing but answer honestly. “It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Lance is proven wrong a second later by the smile that Keith gets from that statement.  
  
\--  
  
When Lance gets back to his apartment that night he has to take a long, long while to stop smiling.

But, you know, whatever.  
  
\--

 

Lance is surprised how little things change when it feels like they’ve changed _so much_. Keith and him still do the same things, except now Lance gets to sit a little closer on the couch, and when he thinks Keith looks exceptionally pretty in a moment, he’s allowed to stare.

“So when did you start playing the piano? Because you’re pretty young and like, unfairly good.”

Keith is obviously pleased with the comment. “I started when I was ten, which is pretty late, but I worked hard at it. I kind of got forced into it at first, because I was getting in trouble a lot at school and my dad thought I needed something to focus on.”

Lance rests his chin on his hand. “Not a sport?”

Keith shakes his head, twirling some ramen noodles with his chopsticks. “I tried out soccer but I got kicked off the team.”

Lance is intrigued. “Why?”  
Keith gives him a sheepish smile. “I sort of bit a kid.”

Lance bursts out laughing. “ _What_?”

Keith’s cheeks turn red. “Okay, so it totally wasn’t my fault!”

Lance gasps through his laughter. “How is _biting_ someone not your fault?”

“I was eight, and there was this kid, and he was always such an asshole and he always used to kick me in the legs when no one was looking so that no one would believe me when I told them! So then one day he full on tackles me which makes _no_ sense because it’s soccer, and there isn’t supposed to be any physical contact and he wouldn’t get off so I bit him. Apparently that was an _overreaction_. He says he tripped and fell on me but I know it’s fake.”

Lance grins. “Sure, right. Of course. You’re completely innocent.”

Keith narrows his eyes. “I get the feeling you don’t mean it.”

“I am _completely_ innocent.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Sure. Like you ever are.” After a moment. “Have you ever played an instrument?”

Lance nods enthusiastically. “The guitar! I played when I was younger, then I was an idiot while doing the flip off the wall turning in swimming and hurt my wrist, then I kind of stopped. I’ve been meaning to get back into it at some point but it’s been a few years.”

“What’d you play? Like, what type of music?”

Lance shrugs. “All sorts. Mostly rock though, seventies stuff.”

Keith takes a bite of his food. “Am I an idiot for hoping it might be classical?”

“Maybe.” Lance grins to make the blow less bad. “Anyways, when I was younger I thought about taking up the piano, but that was back when I was like, super hyper all the time and I didn’t have the patience to sit through it. At least with guitar I could learn the songs that I loved relatively quickly.”

Keith looks down at his food, picking through it like it’s the most important task in the world right now. “Well, if you still wanted to learn, I could show you a bit. I mean, it’s not like I’m not qualified.”

Lance breaks into an excited smile. “Really?”

Keith looks up, clearly relieved with Lance’s enthusiasm. “Yeah. If you want.”

“ _Yes_ .” Lance shoves some last chicken in his mouth and then gets up. “Come on, we’re going over to your place _right now_ and you’re gonna show me.”

Lance walks over to Keith’s side of the table and motions for him to get up. “Come on, come on, we’re going.”

Keith takes a last bite of food as well, then gets up, and allows himself to be dragged along when Lance takes his hand. When they get to Keith’s place Lance has to wait, bouncing on his heels, as Keith fumbles with his keys in his free hand to unlock the door.

Then, Lance pulls Keith all the way to the piano and sits down.

Keith laughs, looking down at their joined hands. “I’m loving the enthusiasm but I’m gonna need that hand if I’ll be teaching you.”

Lance lets it go reluctantly, and looks at the keyboard. “Alright, so what’s first?”

Keith lets out a breath, also staring at it.

Lance looks over. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing. I just uh- I just realized I’ve never actually taught someone how to play before.”

Lance leans his head forward to rest on the piano and turns his head to look at Keith with a grin. “Of course you haven’t.”

Keith nods firmly to himself. “Alright. Alright, I can do this. Sit up, we’re gonna play some piano.”

Lance’s grin grows wider. “ _Now_ we’re cooking.”

“Alright, so we’ll just start with the right hand.” Keith points to a key. “This is middle C. It’s probably the most important note to know, so just rest your thumb on there and it’s a good starting position.”

Lance puts his hand where Keith tells him to and can immediately see him wince.

“What’s wrong?”

Keith shakes his head slightly. “Nothing. Nothing, just… your wrist. Okay, that doesn’t matter right now, that’s not what’s important.”

Lance laughs. “You’re so skilled it’s hilarious seeing you try to dumb it down.”

Keith gives him a pleading look. “I’m going to figure this out. Don’t worry. I just have to think back…”

“To when you were ten.” Lance can’t help but tease, it’s so fun. “And back then you were probably still a prodigy.”  
“Well, I did skip ahead relatively quickly, but that’s not the point.”

Lance decides to let off, before Keith gets too flustered. It’s fun when you push it to a _point_ , but he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Keith places his hand lower down on the keyboard. “Alright, so I’m an octave lower, so you can just play the same thing on your equivalent keys.”

“What’re we playing?”

Keith grins. “How about a version of the Star Wars theme?”

Lance actually _gasps_ at that. “Really? But that’s way too complicated.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll simplify it. I’ll do the lefthand part, you the right hand.”

“ _Deal_.”

 

\--

 

So, Lance is _definitely_ not an expert with the piano. He confuses the notes when there are too many in a row, and it doesn’t make sense to him like the guitar does. But Keith is patient with it, like he always is when it comes to the instrument he loves, and he guides Lance through it.

And when Keith and Lance finally manage to make it through the whole theme without _too_ many errors Keith kisses Lance so excitedly Lance’s back presses up against the keys with a loud noise, but both of them are too occupied to care about that.

All in all a pretty good night.

 

\--

 

They continue on in this fashion for another couple of weeks. Lance’s friends know about Keith by now, but they’ve never all actually hung out in the same room together. The only times Lance sees Keith is when they’re hanging out in each other’s apartments together, or when they go out for dinner. The only people who know about him are Pidge and Hunk.

Lance doesn’t want to act like he’s ashamed of Keith, because that’s totally not what it is. He _likes_ Keith, a lot. He really does. It’s just, he’s afraid. Of bringing this thing public.

Because right now it’s so _good_ . Lance doesn’t want to screw it up. Like he does most relationships. He just wants to keep a good thing good. Is that so wrong?

He’s at Keith’s apartment, listening to him play when Keith pauses to look back at Lance suddenly with an unreadable expression. “What are we?”

Oh god, the dreaded question. For a second, Lance freezes, before asking, “what?”  
Keith turns his body more so that he’s facing Lance fully. “I mean, what is our relationship? You’re here a lot and we kiss and everything and I wanted to know.”

Lance decides to do the first thing that comes to mind and plays it cool. He shrugs and grins. “I dunno. It’s fun. Nothing serious, we both get to chill here outside of regular commitments, y’know?”

Lance still can’t decipher how Keith feels about all this, and after a moment Keith nods. “Alright.”  
When Keith returns to playing his shoulders look just the slightest bit stiffer and Lance feels that in some way he’s really fucked up.  
  
\--

  
Lance goes to drop off his things in his apartment and then immediately heads over to Keith’s. Lance can hear that Keith has already started practicing for the day, which is good. It means that it’ll be easier for Lance to be able to get on his couch and in a position to listen. Although, it’s not like it’s difficult to get Keith to play for him if he hasn’t been already. Lance is honestly pretty sure that the guy likes to show off. (Lance wouldn’t be surprised. Especially when it was the whole piano business that got Lance to kiss Keith in the first place).

Lance doesn’t even bother knocking, he just walks right in. Normally Keith would lock his doors, but he stopped doing that after Lance started coming over regularly. Honestly, Lance is pretty sure that it’s just because Keith doesn’t want to have to go through the effort of pausing his playing to get up and open the door for Lance. He’s become especially at ease with Lance coming in and out since they’ve started with the kissing.

When Lance enters the apartment the first thing he sees is Keith sitting at the piano, surrounded by a ton of sheet music and looking a little lost. He doesn’t even seem to notice Lance entering the apartment, so Lance slams the door shut loud enough for Keith to notice.

Keith looks up, startled. His shoulders relax when he sees that it’s just Lance that’s come in and offers him a weak smile and a “hey,” before he goes back to studying his sheet music.

Lance walks over to look down at the papers, although he’s not quite sure why considering he can’t read sheet music at all. “What’s up? Why do you look like you’re drowning in papers?”

Keith rubs his face with one hand. “It’s because I am. Apparently there was going to be a performance in town of Tchaikovsky’s first piano concerto in a week but the pianist had to cancel last minute because she broke her wrist and they called me to see if I could replace her. Except, she’s an absolute legend who would have totally been practicing this for the last few months and here I am with a week to learn it. I mean, I’ve played parts of it before out of interest, but never the entire thing! The parts that I _did_ play were by no means at concert level either.” He looks up at Lance with wide eyes. “What the hell am I going to do?”

Lance stops and doesn't respond for a moment because that is a lot of talking to process for once. “Um…”

Keith sighs. “I’m sorry. You just came over and I’m dumping all of this on you.”

Lance is hasty to respond, because he doesn’t want to seem like he’s confirming Keith’s suspicions by staying silent too long.

“No! No, I don’t mind, really. You can tell me about it. That sounds like a terrible situation.”

Keith nods. “I _know_ , right? Yet, I totally can’t turn it down, because this is a really amazing opportunity. If I nail this performance it can open up all sorts of opportunities for me. But then again, if I fail, it’s going to be career _suicide,_ I’ll look like an idiot in front of a bunch of people that are _really_ important to how my career is going to turn out.”

Lance reaches up to run his hand through his hair, contemplating the whole situation for a moment. Keith is right, it’s risky. But, at the same time…

“Do you think that you can?”

Keith looks like he doesn’t know how to respond, so Lance clarifies.

“Do you think that you can pull it off? Just think through this logically for a moment, the difficulty of the song, the amount of time you have, your skill level, which is by the way, through the roof. Think through all this objectively and decide whether or not you think you can do it. Because if you _do_ think it’s possible, I think that you should go for it.”

Keith looks like he takes Lance’s advice for a moment, clearly thinking it all through. Then, he nods slightly, as if only to himself and gets up off the piano bench, rushing over to Lance, pulling him into a kiss.

When he pulls away he’s smiling bright. “Thank you.”  
Lance grins dopily. “So you’re doing it?”

Keith nods, and this time it seems like it’s for the both of them. “Yeah, I’m doing it.”

 

\--

 

Lance gets the true implications of what Keith means by doing this project almost immediately, when Keith starts hardcore focussing on the music, teaching himself the parts that he doesn’t already know, working through the ones that he’d learned in the past.

Lance clears out soon after Keith starts, so that Keith doesn’t have to feel guilty about having Lance there with absolutely no interaction. Keith just really needs some space right now, to get this right, and to make himself great. (Not that that takes a lot of work. Keith is like, the most talented person he’s ever met).

Lance sits back at his own place and tries to think what he used to do before he went nextdoor.

 

\--

 

The next day Lance gets crazy having to sit at his place alone, so he invites Pidge and Hunk out for a visit. They end up going _bowling_ , which they haven’t done in a while. Pidge somehow kicks ass, despite barely being able to pick up the ball without falling over. But whatever, Lance isn’t bitter.

They have a nice time. Lance sort of just thinks about Keith the whole time, wondering what it would be like if he were here bowling as well.

Confusing.

 

\--  
  
On his way home, Lance stops by Keith’s favorite Chinese place and gets him some food. He doesn’t bother to ask beforehand whether or not Keith has eaten already, because knows the answer.

Keith forgets to eat even when he’s _not_ under high pressure.

A couple of seconds after Lance knocks he hears the music pause, and a few moments later Keith opens the door.

Lance grins and holds up the takeout bag. “I’ve got your favorite.”

Keith blinks at him like he’s trying to figure out whether Lance is really here or if he’s a figment of his imagination and Lance wonders just how long Keith has been practicing today.

Keith rubs his eyes. “Hey, you’re here.” He looks happy to see Lance, but at the same time Lance can tell that he’s antsy, wanting to get back into the apartment.

Lance begins to wonder when he started knowing Keith so well.

Lance holds up a hand motioning for Keith to be silent. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to take up all your time or anything so you don’t need to worry how to send me away politely. I have class in the morning so I need to go to bed anyways, I was just out.  You forget to eat like ninety percent of the time when you get in that weird focussed mood where you sit in front of that piano all night. I won’t disturb you from your practicing, I just want you to take care of yourself.”

Keith breaks into one of the brightest smiles Lance has ever seen and takes Lance by the collar of his jacket to pull him into a kiss. He pulls back, still smiling. “Thank you.”

Lance grins, slightly shakily. “It’s no problem, really.”

Keith reaches for the takeout bag and Lance hands it over.

Keith looks down at the bag and gives him one last smile, this time guiltily. “I’m sorry, we can spend more time together once this is all over.

Lance makes a shooing motion. “Make those dead composers jealous.”  
  
\--  
  
The only time that Lance hears Keith take a break is the times that Lance comes to talk to him. And although Lance knows that Keith needs the time to practice, he also knows that it can’t be healthy to be doing that so single-mindedly, all day.

So, he makes a point of visiting Keith for some reason or another once every day. He never overstays his welcome, and he can tell that Keith is relieved to have at least some sort of human company for the day.

Lance decides to make his visit for the day when he hears Keith constantly cut out on the same part of the song five times in a row. He knows that this is a risky move. Keith can either be happy for the distraction, or he’ll be extremely crabby from his own frustration.

Lance decides to take the risk.

When he walks into Keith’s apartment Keith’s again not playing, instead he’s sitting at the piano, hunched over.

Lance frowns, making his way over to him. Something’s wrong, Keith’s shoulders are all tensed and Lance doesn’t just think that it’s frustration from not knowing a certain part.

“Hey Keith, what’s up? Is everything alright?”

Keith looks up with a hollow expression. “Hey Lance.”

Lance approaches him slowly and kneels down in front of him. He’s worried now.

“What’s wrong?”

Keith blows out a sigh. “I feel like such an amateur. This shouldn’t affect anyone who has good form, but my wrists, and my forearms hurt so much. The muscle’s getting all tense and it makes it really difficult to play well. I think it’s because of how much I’ve been playing the last couple of days, and the stress.”

Keith pushes his hair out of his eyes with both hands, wincing.

Before Lance himself even really knows what he’s doing he reaches out gently to take both of Keith’s wrists, pulling them down slowly.

Keith looks at him in surprise, and Lance is in far too deep to give up now.

He lets go of one of the wrists, and starts to work on the left one, massaging it gently. He runs his fingers along the bone, applying gentle pressure with both hands. Keith opens his mouth like he’s gonna question it then Lance applies pressure to a certain spot and he just closes his eyes, letting out a slow breath.

Lance works on the wrist slowly, moving his way up to the forearm. He’s not sure exactly how he should be doing this, but as along as it helps bring Keith some relief he’s willing to give it a shot. Keith just sits there, his head down, dark hair falling into his face as he slowly relaxes, his breaths evening out.  
Lance works on the one arm until he feels like it’s been enough, and then starts on the other one. He marvels at Keith’s hands. They’re about the same size as his, but the fingers are shorter. Lance was always told when he was younger that he had nice hands, slender and graceful. But he could never do what

Keith does.

Keith breaths out a soft, “thank you.”

Lance looks up at him, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “It’s no problem.”

Keith opens his eyes and lets out a slow breath. Lance is caught again by Keith’s violet irises. He finds his voice after a moment.

“You know, this isn’t quite what I imagined being on my knees for you would be like.”

Keith looks at him in shock for a moment before he breaks into a quiet laugh. “Sorry?”

Lance breaks into a full blown grin. “Are you, though?”

Keith shrugs. “Not really.”

Lance is still kneeling, Keith’s left hand held gently cradled in his own. That’s when Lance realizes just how sappy this entire scene is, and coughs slightly, taking back his hands. “I hope that helped.”

Keith nods, and Lance can’t read his expression. “It feels a lot better, thank you again.”

Lance nods as well, before he gets up, offering a hand to Keith. “Come on, have you eaten yet?”

Keith shakes his hand, using Lance’s hand to help him stand up. “No.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Come on, I’ll cook you something. If we can manage to find anything in your fridge. I’m kinda empty on food at the moment, I gotta shop still.”

Keith allows himself to be pulled to the kitchen, but still lets out a few halfhearted sounds of protest, which Lance is pretty sure is just for the principle of the thing, and because he has a reputation of being stubborn to uphold.

The contents of Keith’s fridge are startlingly empty. Even with all of Lance’s monitoring of Keith’s living situation, Keith has still obviously clung onto the gremlin life as tightly as possible.

Lance rolls his eyes and slams the door shut with a whiff of cold air.

“Well, you have no food.”

Keith nods. “Yeah, I forgot about that.”

Lance sighs. “Alright, come on. We’re going over to my apartment. I have some chicken set out, I’ll cook you something good.”  
This time Keith doesn’t even complain.

 

\--

 

An hour later Lance has cooked up a pretty delicious chicken stir fry, and Keith is looking a whole lot better than he did before. He’s laughing at Lance’s jokes, and he looks like he’s finally managed to forget about the stress that he’s under, at least for a little while. Lance takes it as a good sign.

Lance takes it as an even _better_ sign when Keith eats all of the food that Lance gives him, and even asks for seconds. What can he say, Lance is totally vain.

After they’re done with the food, they stay at the table chatting for a while, talking about whatever random stuff comes to mind. Lance has to say that he really misses this, them spending time together. There just hasn’t been enough of it lately, with everything going on. He misses getting to watch Keith smile and laugh, and get all animated about something.

God, he _loves_ it when that happens.

Before he knows it, it’s been another couple of hours. Keith glances at the clock and looks back to Lance. “I should really get going. I need to wake up early in the morning to get some more time in. I’ll take your advice and leave the playing for tonight, give myself some rest.”  
Lance smiles. “Good. Someone is finally listening to me. Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

When they get back to Keith’s place Lance pulls him into a sweet kiss, before pulling back and whispering a, “sleep well, alright?”

Keith nods. “You too. And thank you, for tonight.”

Lance shoots him a wink. “My pleasure.”

 

\--

 

When Lance wakes up at ten Keith is already playing. He makes himself some breakfast and is about to sit down to watch some morning cartoons when there’s a knock on his door.

Lance puts the remote down and makes his way to the door, pretty much just expecting it to be Pidge showing up uninvited like she sometimes does. (And yet it’s somehow Lance’s fault when she does that and he’s not actually home). Except, when he opens the door it’s Keith on the other side.

Lance blinks, morphing into a happy smile. “Hey! I wasn’t expecting you. How’re you doing?”

Keith nods a couple of times. “Good, good. Listen, can you help me? Can you listen to this one part I’m playing right now? I want a second opinion.”

“Of course, yeah. I’d be happy to.”

Lance follows Keith when he immediately turns and goes back to his apartment. Oh boy.

(Of course, the part ends up being as good as everything else Keith plays).

 

\--

 

Lance begins to realize that the thing that he can do to help Keith the most is just to listen in and tell him how good he is. So that’s what he does. He goes over every afternoon for a performance and tells Keith how much he’s improved, which he really has. The kisses that he gets for it are just a bonus of an already sweet job.

 

\--

  
“Good, I’m glad you’re here.”

Lance grins when he hears Keith say that at his entrance. “Well, I’d hope you’d be happy to see me.”

Keith holds up two items on clothes hangers. “I need your help to pick out what I’m going to wear for the performance.”

“What about that suit I saw you in that one time?” Lance can’t help but grin at the memory of how attractive Keith was in that.

Keith sighs. “That one got some damage in the wash, it sucks. That’s what I get for using shitty laundromat machines. Now I need to pick between these two other ones I have.”

Lance isn’t sure how to tell him that he’s not really a fan of either.

He notices just past Keith’s shoulder there’s something on the couch. Another outfit?

He motions towards it, hoping that it’ll be a little better. “What’s that?”

Keith looks back, startled. “Oh, that? That’s nothing, just something old that was in my closet that I’d forgotten about. What I really want to know is which of these two suits is better.”

Lance ignores him and goes for the clothes on the couch. He can tell even from where he was standing before that it’s formal attire, and it looks different than the others. Upon closer inspection he sees that it is different, the back is longer. And the front is stranger, the buttons are in a different formation.  
Lance grins. “Holy shit, is this one of those suits that the famous conductors wear? And the two hundred year old composers.”

Lance picks up the suit and admires it, then turns around to hold it up to where Keith’s standing.

“Dude, you’ve got to put this on. I need to see you in it.”

Keith shakes his head, his eyes widening. “No. That wasn’t even an option. I kind of forgot I had it. My teacher gave it to me after I finished music school and I always thought that it was way too old and ugly to wear.”

Lance shoots him a deadpan look. “You wear a cut off red jacket every day.”

Keith’s cheeks tinge pink and he narrows his eyes. “Whatever. At least it’s not oversized like yours.”

Lance puts his hand to his chest defensively. “Are you kidding me? I’m styling. But we’re getting off topic. I’m gonna see you in this, and you’ve got no choice about it.”

Keith makes an obvious attempt to stare Lance down but Lance has way too much experience with stubborn younger siblings to fold. Finally, Keith lets out a groan and grabs the jacket, heading into the bathroom.

Lance grins. It takes a few minutes for Keith to come out of the bathroom, which does make sense because that jacket looks like it’s slightly too complicated to do up. Lance is beginning to think he’s jumped out of the window and escaped when the door opens slightly and Keith pokes his head out.

He looks far less displeased than Lance had been expecting, in all honesty.

A moment later he steps out and Lance’s jaw drops.

“That’s the one.” And there’s no way Lance is taking no for an answer.  
  
\--  
  
It’s the day of the fated concert and Lance is on his way up to his apartment, and he’s got a coffee in hand because it’s just criminal that he was out of coffee this morning, so he went out to get some. Now he’s ready to get home and start working on that paper he’s been procrastinating for the past three weeks.

He’s just inside the building, and at the entrance of the stairwell which leads up to the higher floors when Keith appears, jogging down the stairs in his motorcycle jacket.

Lance grins when he sees him. “Hey Keith, you headed out of your hermit cave.”

Keith stops, also smiling when he sees Lance. “Yeah, it’s final rehearsals today. I need to get everything coordinated with the orchestra.”

“Well, I know you’re gonna do perfectly. Remember, I totally believe in you, man. You’re gonna do great tonight.”

Keith nods. “About that. I really need to get going because I’m running late already but I wanted to give you something.”

Lance brightens immediately. He loves presents.

“So you’ve been so supportive of everything that I’ve been doing the last week and me never being around, and all of the practicing at weird hours again.

So when I was at the orchestra yesterday for a rehearsal I talked to my manager. And, she agreed to give me this.” Keith holds out his hand, holding something in it. He looks nervous.

Lance takes the slip of paper from Keith and reads it. He looks up at Keith with eyebrows raised. “This is a ticket. To Tchaikovsky.”

Keith nods, wide eyed then runs his hand through his hair, looking away. “Yeah. Um, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to because it will just be an hour and a bit of classical music and I know it’s still not really your thing, but I thought I’d give you the option. It’s a good seat! I couldn’t get front row on this short notice but it’s really near the front. But yeah, I understand if you’re busy or something tonight.”

Lance waits for him to finish rambling and he’s aware that it’s probably cruel to leave Keith hanging like this but he has his doubts. “This sounds more like a boyfriend thing than a casual fun thing, showing up at your performance for support or whatever.”

Lance doesn’t expect Keith to set his expression, and become suddenly far more certain than he seemed before. Keith nods. He motions towards the ticket in Lance’s hand.

“Like I said, it’s your choice. It’s at eight tonight, if you decide to come.” He gives Lance one last look before turning and continuing on his way to the garage.

Lance is left looking after him.  
  
\--  
  
Lance bats Pidge’s hand out of the way to get at the fry he’s been eyeing before she does. She rolls her eyes.

“That’s rude behavior.”

Lance shoves the fry into his mouth, chewing with a satisfied grin.

“If you act like that around that Keith of yours then you’re not gonna be in the business of having a piano boyfriend anymore.” Pidge takes a sip of her milkshake, looking over the top of it at Lance.

Lance swallows the fry he’s been chewing. “We’re not dating though. Not officially.”

Hunk groans. “When are you two going to make that a thing?”

Lance sighs. “Yeah, about that. I think he wants us to date. At least, he wants us to be more of a thing than we are right now.”

Pidge’s eyebrows skyrocket. “Oh shit, really? Did he say something?”

“Not outright. But he did give me this.” He reaches into his pocket and digs out the ticket that he’d stuck in there earlier. He puts it on the table in front of the other two.

Hunk looks up from it. “A ticket to a piano performance tonight? What, does he want you to go with him?”

Lance shakes his head and takes a sip of milkshake. “Nope. It’s his performance. He wants me to go and support him or something, I don’t know.”

Hunk shrugs. “So?”

Pidge looks at Hunk in disbelief. “So, that’s like totally a couples’ thing!”

"Exactly!” Lance looks between the two of them. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“I mean, do you want to go?”

Lance shrugs, stirring his milkshake absentmindedly with his straw. “I don’t know. I mean, if I don’t go does that mean that what we have right now is over with?”

Hunk leans forward across the table. “Well, I don’t know. You know him better than we do. What this is really about is whether you want to be in a relationship with him. A real one. Because that’s the decision here, right?”

Lance slouches back in the booth and nods after a moment. “Yeah, I guess.”

He reaches for his milkshake and takes a last couple of sips to finish it off before he grabs his coat to get his wallet out, leaving a ten on the table. He’s feeling generous.

“Can you guys just give this to the waitress when she comes around again? I need some time alone, to think about all this. I’m probably just gonna go home for a bit, I don’t know.” ”

Pidge nods as Lance gets out of the booth, pulling his jacket on.

“You have like, two hours to decide.”

Lance nods. This won’t be so difficult, right? It’s a simple decision, does he want a relationship or not?  
  
\--  
  
Lance ends up pacing the length of his tiny apartment for a solid hour. He wishes that he could go outside where there would be more space but it’s pouring rain and he doesn’t think that’s the best idea if he wants to be going to a concert later.

In all reality, Lance has no idea what he’s doing. Even after all his pacing, and flopping back onto the couch when he gets tired of the pacing, he still can’t clear his mind enough to come up with a solid decision.

What he and Keith have right now is nice. Why did Keith have to throw this all into it?

The last thing that Lance wants is another Nyma situation. That was supposed to be nice and fun, and it ended up a complete shitshow. And whatever happened to fun, and not serious? Who was Lance kidding, he always gets attached. That’s just who is he is. He always cares about people more than he should. But does that always have to be such a bad thing?

Maybe it could be a really good thing. Maybe this could be one of the best things that’s ever happened to him.

And sure, taking it out into the real world for public scrutiny is always harder, but Lance _wants_ Keith to get to know his friends. He wants to be able to spend time with them all together, and introduce Keith to people as his boyfriend.

And sure, all of his concerns about this relationship are perfectly valid, and Lance should consider them as carefully as possible, but at the same time when he thinks of Keith waiting for him to show up, the way that Keith’s expression will light up if Lance does, Lance doesn’t feel all that logical.  
After that, the decision is easy.

\--  
  
Lance arrives to the concert late. He had to change into the one suit he owns and it’s not his fault that he’s never been to this stupid (albeit incredibly beautiful) concert hall in this massive ass city, and he has no idea where he’s going. And, that he couldn’t resist when he passed a flower stand on the way here. Somehow he got talked into a dozen red roses that were by _no_ means cheap.

He has to apologize quietly to the ten people that have to get up to allow him past when he realizes his tickets are in the exact middle of the row. He has to endure all the dirty looks that he gets, but it’s totally worth it when he looks up on the stage.

The entire orchestra is in position, and in the center stands a grand piano, drawing the attention of the entire room. It’s unoccupied, and Lance is just about to wonder where Keith is when there’s movement from the side and Keith enters.

The audience rises to applaud him as he takes the stage, and Lance has to place the flowers on the seat carefully so that he can use both hands to clap.

Keith looks absolutely breathtakingly handsome in the suit that Lance forced him to wear, and he looks like he was born to be on that stage. He’s got his hair slicked back, tied at the back of his neck, and it’s a really great look for him, especially with the suit.

Keith’s eyes search over the audience until they settle on Lance and Lance can see how his expression turns to one of happiness. Lance smiles back at him as the audience takes its seats for the performance to begin.

Finally, Keith breaks eye contact and looks back over the audience, bowing slightly before walking to the piano.

He takes his seat. In the room there is silence.

Then, the orchestra begins. Lance has never heard the piece with the backing before, just the piano. The music starts without the piano, loud, then quiets down.

And then, the piano.

The first few chords are loud, powerful. Lance watches, enraptured as Keith plays. He knows all of these parts by now, knows what comes next, yet it still seems like something fresh. Lance wishes he had seen Keith perform far before this. It’s incredible. When he finally manages to tear his eyes away from the stage for a moment he can see that the rest of the audience feels the same way.  
Lance isn’t sure how he could have ever hated this instrument.  
  
\--  
  
In the end, Keith gets a standing ovation that lasts almost outrageously long. He deserves it, Keith did incredibly well. Lance is so proud of him, for learning this all under such short notice and playing it like a complete pro. Even the parts that weren’t perfect were played with such emotion and such passion that Lance doesn’t think it bothered anyone.

Keith’s eyes find Lance again, while he’s looking over the audience, beaming. He gives Lance a look that Lance is sure must have some meaning. Then he turns to sit back at the piano.

The audience goes quiet, sitting down. Murmurs of confusion go throughout the crowd. From what Lance understands, Keith was only supposed to play this one song, with the orchestra having done something alone beforehand.

Whatever Keith’s about to play is completely unexpected, even to Lance.

When the room goes completely quiet, the first note rings out.

Lance recognizes it immediately. It’s the song Keith played after they first kissed. Liebestraum.

Lance had still forgotten to search what it meant. With all the craziness of the concert he hadn’t heard it again since then. Now he’s taken back to that night, and his breath catches in his throat just the way it did when Keith first played it.

This is a sure sign. Keith is playing this for him.

Lance wonders if Keith planned this, or if it was a spur of the moment decision.

The way that he went so surely to the piano makes Lance think that it had been the plan the entire time.

He’s so happy he came.  
  
\--  
  
After Keith’s second standing ovation, the audience starts to clear out of the room. Keith heads backstage, and Lance exits with the rest of the group. He stands there in the crowd of people in the entry room, holding this bouquet of flowers still. He fiddles with the plastic a little bit, and looks around the room.

He can hear snippets of conversation all around him. Mostly they’re praising Keith, talking about his technique or interpretation of the music. Many talk about the Tchaikovsky he did with the orchestra.

It’s an elderly couple passing by that are the first Lance hears talking about the performance of Liebestraum. Lance can’t help but half follow them, listening in.

“That surprise performance of Liebestraum, so unexpected.” The lady sighs. “I had forgotten how romantic that piece is.”

The man has a playful tone to his voice. “It’s called ‘dreams of love’ for a reason, dear.”

The woman nods, her white hair bobbing. “I know, Arthur.”

“However, it was a particularly nice performance. I wonder if he was perhaps playing it for someone in particular.”

Lance hears the wife saying something about how she wish Arthur would play for her like that, but Lance has stopped at that point, no longer able to hear their conversation over the chatter.

Dreams of love.

Lance looks up when there’s suddenly a commotion at the other end of the room.

The people are all gathering around a certain point, and Lance can see after a moment that it’s Keith. Everyone is eager to congratulate him and shake his hand after the performance he just had. Lance is just content to stand back and watch Keith getting the recognition he deserves.

Keith smiles graciously at all the people who come to speak to him, but Lance can tell that he doesn’t like the crowd all that much. It’s funny. Lance would be living in that moment.

Keith spots Lance over the heads of the others, leaning against a pillar, and a couple of minutes later he’s trying to make his way over, after the crowd has dispersed a little bit.

Lance has the flowers hidden behind his back, and goes to meet Keith in the middle of the floor.

Keith offers him a nervous smile. “How was it?”

Lance grins, shaking his head. “You know it was amazing.”

Keith breaks into a far bigger smile. “I got an offer to play another performance here.”

“That’s awesome, Keith! They’d be idiots not to.”

There’s a moment’s pause before Lance pulls the flowers out from behind his back. “Here you go. I got you these, I hear it’s a custom.”  
Keith looks at the flowers with wide eyes and Lance is worried it’s maybe a bit much before Keith’s eyes scrunch up in the corners like when he’s really happy and he takes the flowers, his fingers brushing Lance’s gently. He looks up at Lance. “Thank you. I love them, they’re beautiful.”

Lance grins. “So. Dreams of love, huh?”

Keith’s face turns red. “You know what it means.”

Lance answers in an amused tone. “Yeah. I overheard an old couple talking about it, they seemed sweet.” After a moment, he continues, teasing. “Was it for anyone in particular?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “I think you know the answer to that one.”

Lance just beams.

“It doesn’t have to be love in particular. Just something like it.”

Lance nods, locking eyes with Keith. “Yeah, something like it is about right.”

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> A special thank you to my [beta](https://maraluzy.tumblr.com/) who was incredible supportive through all this and edited this monster <3 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! (comments are always appreciated if you enjoyed lol)


End file.
